Stay Cool
by Ziven
Summary: Drabbles following the "Be Cool" series. Faced with the choice between Yuugi and Mokuba, Yami's got some decisions to make. Filled with drama, lovers from the past, side deals, forbidden conquests, and more pairings than you'd think! -Yami x Mokuba-
1. Moan

**Summary:** _Mokuba had never slept with someone who had the balls to be that inconsiderate at all times, and it was slightly impressive - in a dickish sort of way._

* * *

_"Oh, fuck-shit-shit-shit!"_

Mokuba's eyes snapped open with a start, and looked around before he did anything rash -

Yes, he was still in KaibaCorp's conference room. And _yes_, the cheesy film on sexual harassment was still playing on the screen thirty feet in front of him. His older brother was nowhere to be seen, and he sighed in relief, shifting a bit uncomfortably to accommodate his half-formed erection.

_Gods_, Yami had turned out to be _such_ a moaner. Just a few hours ago that voice had been in his ear, and now it was replaying in his head, along with a few choice images. Not that he was a stranger to noise makers, but Yami particularly did not _give a flying fuck_ who was listening, regardless of position, not even Seto. Mokuba had never slept with someone who had the balls to be that inconsiderate at all times, and it was slightly impressive - in a dickish sort of way.

A deep growl of Yami's played itself over again as the undertone for his thoughts. Mokuba knew that he had errands to run after this seminar, groceries to shop for; and Seto would want to have dinner with him to ..._discuss_ what he had witnessed that morning. He wasn't sure which he valued more at the moment-a nice fuck, or food?

...well... the store wasn't going anywhere...

{FIN}

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**Edited: **6/30/12 - I've decided to add the summaries to the top of the chapters as I edit them, so that there's a similar experience to Livejournal with the cuts. I like the snippets I've chosen to be the headers, and I hope that new potential readers will be intrigued by them.

This piece takes place directly after the ending of "Be Cool". It's just a snippet of Mokuba thinking about Yami after spending that night-and morning-together. I finally got the balls together to decide to post it up here. XD

I was inspired by the smut_69 table of prompts on Live Journal. I'm not posting every single one, because my theme is just Mokuba in general, and not all of the fanfics are going to be featuring this particular pairing. The ones that do, though, will be updated here :3

FYI: Moan is prompt #1.

"I will return, for I am the darkness..."


	2. Phone Encounter

**Summary:** _Yami hated phones. His was for emergencies only._

* * *

Yami hated phones. His was for emergencies only.

He'd had to eat his own words today, though; there he was, locked in his room while Mokuba whispered dirty things to him. He'd been alone for the last ten minutes, phone in hand as Mokuba turned him on with a vivid description of what could be happening ...Yami wanted to actually_ do_ it. He _wanted_ Mokuba to chain him to a bed, torture him with a slow thrust, teeth grazing along his skin enough to make him tremble - but not hard enough to leave scratches or draw blood. Normally he needed more, but he would take what Mokuba could give. He wanted to put in his place; he was just in that kind of mood today - he would yield.

"Where the fuck _are_ you right now?" Yami asked, "Wherever it is, leave it, stop it - whatever. Name your place. I'll meet you."

Mokuba paused then, and Yami was sure he heard a chuckle in the undertone of the voice that responded. "I can't... I'm at work."

Yami took a deep breath, and the hand in his trousers faltered. "Fuck you," he said without missing a single beat, and hung up the phone.

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited:** 6/30/12 - Again, adding snippets at the top for a summary.

L.M.A.O. I was laughing while I wrote the end of this - somehow I hadn't been expecting for things to end up like that. XD

FYI - this prompt was #57

"I will return, for I am the darkness..."


	3. Cuddle

**Summary: **_Not a bad price to pay for reality._

* * *

It was one of the mysteries that existed between the two of them: even when Mokuba had fucked him hard, done all the things that Yami wanted - hit him and bit him and made him feel like a bitch; called him out of his name and catered to whatever fucking kinks the the masochistic man felt necessary - there were never quite any objections when afterward, as they lay there, Mokuba curled his body around Yami.

The cuddling wasn't necessarily a habit; Mokuba could go without it, if he wanted - but he didn't want to. Yami was familiar, concrete. He was _there_, and something about the rhythm of another person's breathing had always been soothing to him. It was a way to pass time, counting how many seconds each inhale and exhale took to complete, both sleeping and awake. Yami would make a derogatory comment - he was a bitch, a pussy, an easy slut - and then it was over and he was sleeping.

Not a bad price to pay for reality.

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited: **6/30/12

Oh goodness. There is so much more here than is actually explained. :3

FYI: This is prompt #33.


	4. Strangers

**Summary: **_"You don't even know who he is!"_

* * *

"You don't even know who he is!" Seto said, not-yelling-but-yelling in that icy tone of his. Mokuba had never figured out how he did that - how he managed to yell by only raising his voice and not actually straining his vocal chords to shout.

"He's a person, Seto," Mokuba said, knowing that the obviousness of his statement was going to grate on his brother's nerves.

When he had finally gone to dine with his brother after two weeks of stalling and excuses, he had assumed that Yami would be one on a long list of things that his older brother was going to give him personal commentary on. He hadn't expected, however, to eat in complete silence for forty-five minutes before Seto made an outburst concerning Mokuba's personal acquaintance with Yami.

He _had_ expected his brother to mention the fact that he'd been told that he was _fucking_ on the phone. ...but maybe it was best if they didn't mention it. He would count it as a blessing of sorts.

Seto cut a slice of steak, chewed for a moment and swallowed before speaking. _He only took ten seconds to swallow that. _"Is he the reason why you've been avoiding coming to the mansion?" _Did he even chew that properly? He's going to choke himself..._ "Mokuba, are you listening?" _I mean, does he still like his steak tough? How is he doing that?_ "...so you're just going to stare at me and ignore what I'm saying?"

Mokuba blinked, and said pointedly, "You're going about this the wrong way." He cut his own piece of meat, brushing his long hair behind his ear.

His _nii-sama_ looked indignant. "Oh? Really?"

Unlike his older brother, however, he chewed his meat carefully before swallowing, making use of the manners that he had been taught while growing up in this very structure. It was an odd sight, he knew, for a man dressed in a T-shirt and jeans topped with a leather coat to practice manners, but what could he say - he loved surprising the masses.

When he was ready, he said, "Yes. I've been gone for a long time, Seto. I think that instead of lecturing me on all of changes that have happened while I was away, maybe you should just fuckin' ask me if there's anything important about me you should know. As it stands at the moment, you don't really know me anymore. Or at least it feels like it."

He was being honest. It seemed like the only thing Seto was interested in was governing his behavior. From the moment of his return, there had been no questions about his experience overseas; no sign, really, that he'd been gone in the first place. It was as though he'd done something wrong before he'd even returned, and Seto had decided to punish him for it without telling him what it was.

Seto paused. "Like the cursing?" Seto _never _paused. Mokuba sighed.

He had hurt his brother's feelings. Poor Seto.

"That happened a long time ago. It's habit now." There were several concessions he could have made about swearing, but considering how long Seto had waited to confront him about it Mokuba felt like being petty.

"I can't have someone working for my company who speaks like that."

"You know damned well I'm capable of professional speech. I'm already hired at your company," Mokuba retorted. "I'm on personal time at the moment."

"And the smoking?"

"-is something that I like to do." _That_ probably wasn't stopping anytime soon, even if Seto didn't like it. He didn't smoke often enough to really put himself in any medical danger, and it was soothing.

"You're going to kill yourself."

At this point, Mokuba felt as though he'd be seen as weaker if he didn't retort. "At least I'll be the one doing it."

It was Seto's turn to sigh, exasperated. "How often do you smoke?"

"Only rarely." Mokuba didn't quite want to tell him - it wasn't important, in his opinion.

Without missing a beat, Seto asked again, "_How often_ do you smoke?"

Mokuba wanted to decline answering, but he wasn't going to back down from Seto. "A few a week."

"Packs?"

"No. I said a few and I meant a few." Mokuba took the chance of this small break to take another bite of steak.

He couldn't really complain - Seto had been fair enough to wait until Mokuba finished swallowing before he asked the next question. "...where did the motorcycle come from?"

"A friend in Syracuse. I spent a summer with him and his family, and I learned how to ride his bike. After learning I decided to get my license for it. I like bikes and I didn't know what I was missing until I rode one. I bought LaShonda after and I've been in love with her ever since."

The dancing light in Seto's eyes told Mokuba that he had more than one question to ask. He risked hesitating if he couldn't figure out which one, though.

"A friend." The tone was obviously presumptuous.

"Yes."

"Sleep with him?" Blunt, as usual, and straight to the point.

Mokuba crossed his arms. "I don't sleep with every guy I see, Seto."

"La... Shonda?" Seto was even having trouble pronouncing the word.

"Bike's name." The brunette was becoming impatient.

"Why?"

"I bought it used; I didn't name her."

Seto was pussyfooting around the real issue, and Mokuba knew that he'd been avoiding it on purpose. The line of questioning so far proved that Seto didn't really care about the things that had happened to him in the States. Nii-sama was asking about the typical things - the things that he'd plainly seen in Mokuba's behavior - and not the things that he _hadn't_ seen. He wasn't asking about the woman who'd taken his virginity, or the first time he'd been so drunk he'd puked on himself - or when he'd shared his first kiss with a man and decided it wasn't so bad.

He hadn't even asked about his school experiences grades - did he even know what Mokuba had gotten his degrees in? Seto's calls had become less frequent over time, and that had been the most hurtful thing; why couldn't his brother at least make up for it now that he'd come home by asking the right questions?

Mokuba shook his head, and pushed his plate away. He wasn't hungry anymore.

This was why he hadn't wanted to come here and do this - he knew it wouldn't improve his relationship with his brother. There was something _wrong_ with Seto, he decided. After all, what normal human being would show such blatant disregard for what was once such a strong source of support? He looked at his watch and stood silently, not caring if his brother viewed him as running away. The truth was that he really didn't know the man who was sitting across the table from him.

Seto's eyes followed him as he moved away from the table. "Leaving?" Those lights dancing in his eyes added onto the question. _You were the one who suggested this, Mokuba. Tired of the questions?_

"I need a smoke," he said. Mokuba had never thought that such a short conversation, with his brother no less, would carry such hurt and disappointment. He needed to get a handle on himself, or he was afraid he may break down - in either anger or tears - and say or do something that he would regret. He _needed_ a smoke.

"There is no smoking on my property."

"That's why I'm leaving." If he was lucky, he would at least make it out of the building before showing any deep sense of emotion.

"Mokuba," Seto said. It was a statement, not a request.

"_What?_" he snapped.

The older Kaiba brother paused before asking the next question. Meanwhile, Mokuba searched his coat for a cig. He didn't carry a pack on him most of the time, but he was sure that he had a few stays somewhere, and this was a special circumstance. In all honesty Mokuba had never wanted a cigarette so badly in his life, both to upset Seto and to calm his nerves.

"...when did you start sleeping with men?"

That question hurt the most, and Mokuba couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips before he answered. Seto wasn't even asking it for the right reasons. "Why does that matter?"

"It doesn't. But I'm curious."

"Really now? That's interesting." Mokuba managed to find one, slightly bent but still good, in his inside pocket. His lighter was out in only a few seconds. "About what, exactly?"

"Don't light that in here."

"I know." But Mokuba wasn't listening. "Are you going to ask the question? Is that what you really want to know? Or do you want to ask about Yami?" He wasn't pulling punches.

Seto never asked an idle question, and more than often the answer served more than one purpose. What Mokuba couldn't figure out was why this was such a big deal to him. He had never shown a deep interest in the meaning behind sexuality before. Would Seto think less of him? Despite the conversation that they were having, that was what he was worried about the most - because he didn't want to believe that his brother was an idiot.

"Either," Seto conceded. Mokuba opened his mouth to answer, but his brother cut him off again. "—or both."

What would happen when he answered honestly? What would Seto's reaction be? "Three years ago." Part of him didn't want to see it.

"To which?"

Mokuba lit his cigarette quickly, a distraction to keep himself from looking direction at his brother. "Figure it out, Seto."

"I told you not to light that."

"I know. I'm out of here." He began to walk toward the dining room exit - this conversation had given him too much to think about - he was going to need some time alone. And so long as he was walking away, he would have to see the disappointment on his brother's face.

"-Mokuba," Seto called, voice flat as always.

"What?" He didn't turn.

"If your boyfriend ever speaks to me like that again I'm pressing charges. And don't ever speak to me on the phone like that. I don't want to know about your business."

Mokuba didn't even address that issue. Either of them. "Don't call me unnecessarily after work hours."

"I need to know where you are."

"You don't need to know jack shit," Mokuba said, and there was smoke wafting up to the ceiling. "Text me. I'm a big boy now." It took him entirely too long to realize his brother wouldn't understand the American expression. Oh, well.

"...you've changed."

That he did turn for. He chuckled and smiled, making his way back to the table to tap his ashes on the napkin next to his unfinished plate. "You're a bit late on that, Seto." But all the same, he stuck to tradition and bowed deeply to his older brother - his boss - and tapped the cigarette on the napkin one last time for good measure as he exited the room.

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited:** 7/1/12

This one is way longer than the others, because I needed it to get this out. I wanted to make it clear that Seto is NOT a douche-like the way he is in one of my other stories, _"Oh to see the Light!"_ - but he just doesn't understand the changes his brother's gone through, and he doesn't know how to deal with them. I tried to communicate the silent pride for exchanging conversation between these two brothers, but I'm not sure if I communicated it correctly. Another thing that needs to be mentioned here is Seto's sense of imbalance. This chapter focuses on Mokuba, so it's a little difficult to tell with Seto's rigid outer shell, but he feels out of sorts.

Also, we find out a few things about Mokuba's past in this drabble. Cool, no?

FYI: This is prompt #58.


	5. Whisper

**Summary: **_"You slept with Mokuba?"_

* * *

"You _slept_ with Mokuba? You weren't joking?"

They were in the library, Yami scowling as he read an article in the Domino University Newspaper. It about something stupid like recycling, and Yami should have gotten up to peruse the shelves but he was feeling lethargic.

Yuugi was supposed to working on a paper or some other worthless academic assignment. While Yami liked reading, he didn't like reading in a place that demanded absolute quiet. He only needed quiet when he was thinking about himself - and he had tried his hardest to do less and less of that as the years had gone by.

Now this. When Yuugi had practically ignored his outburst the week before, refusing to say anything aside from that Yami's commentary had been inexplicably inappropriate, he just figured that his _hikari_ hadn't been in the mood to have his dreams crushed. Yami sent his other half a glance that clearly betrayed his answer to the question. Why would he lie in the first place?

The two of them were seated at a small cubicle, complete with a sturdy computer. While yuugi spoke, he was turning the pages of a book beside him.

There was a man wearing sunglasses in the cubicle to their left and he glanced at the pair of them, a quizzical expression crossing his face as his mind processed what Yuugi was saying. Yami sent him a pointed glance and said, "...if you're going to eavesdrop, you could at least be a bit more inconspicuous about it."

Speaking in his infamous base quietly was a very difficult thing to do in the library, and his voice sounded as though it was echoing. Perhaps the place was so quiet that he was imagning his voice being made louder.

The man beside them hurriedly pushed his chair out from the enclosed desk and moved up to the next row.

Yuugi blushed. "_Please,_ Yami, don't do that - people know me here."

"You asked the obvious question," Yami replied, turning a page and continuing to read about how the Engineering College was bringing in revenue to the school. "Tactless, too. And it's a wonder that you're well-known, Yuugi; you spend all your time at home. Do you even _have_ friends here? How many classes are you taking again?" But Yami already knew that Yuugi was taking only two classes - he was just being a dick.

Yuugi sent Yami a glance that clearly showed he was aware of that as well. "...I just - I wasn't expecting you two to - I dunno. I just wasn't...expecting it."

"That would be the point, Yuugi. We weren't advertising it to anyone. Actually, I wasn't too sure about it myself at first, but-"

Yuugi had effectively halted paying attention to his computer screen; his eyes were locked onto Yami. "Not that I need to know everything, but Yami, you didn't even tell me? Like," Yuugi hands were now twirling a pencil, "how long ago did this happen? Were you guys going out before I knew he was back-"

"We're not going out," Yami said pointedly.

Yuugi made a face that looked slightly horrified; it was both amusing and disconcerting for the ex-Pharaoh. "-then _what exactly_ are you doing?" He did something on the computer for a moment, his hands typing out words so quickly that Yami knew it had to be a skill. He could have never done anything like that.

"...nothing, actually."

Yuugi's jaw dropped this time instead. "_Nothing._ That's how you describe having sex twice with the same person."

"Well, technically, it was three-"

"-_three times?_ You fucking slept with Mokuba _three times?_" It was rare that Yami heard such speech from his hikari. "When did the third time happen?"

He was amused, and the smile crept up his lips very slowly as he began to answer. "Well, really it was all in one go. I didn't say three because-"

"_Ahem._"

Both hikari and yami turned to the right to see a very disgruntled librarian glaring at them so purposefully through her pink bifocals that Yami was sure that with the help of a Millennium Item, the two of them would be on fire. Her pencil-like figure seemed much taller than he was sure she actually was, and towering over them simply enhanced the severity of her expression. She was older, of course - that sort of expression was only developed after decades of dealing with annoyances and irritants - and she had long, silver hair pinned up into grecian-style bun. There was a braid banded across the top, and although Yami had no clue how she'd gotten it like that, he couldn't help but think that she must be quite breathtaking when not staring down patrons.

He was growing soft. Like recognized like, and Yami took just a moment to ponder if he would have aged that gracefully.

Yuugi blushed more red than Yami thought was necessary, more than he did when when he was drunk. Then he gulped, typed out more words on the keyboard, clicked a few times and said, whispering, "I'm _so_ sorry. We're leaving now."

"I should hope so," the woman said, and Yami stuck out his tongue at her as they left, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.

When they had gotten outside, Yami burst, "That old crotchety bitch thinks I didn't see that couple making out in General Info and Computer Science - there were other things she could have been paying attention to." Her elderly beauty be damned

Yami liked libraries - hell, he liked reading - but he didn't like someone telling him what the fuck to do and not do while he was doing it. And that was why he'd rather rent the Ra-damned books and take them home.

Yuugi frowned as they began walking down the street. "...you didn't say three because...?"

Didn't _he_ have a one-track mind?

"...because I was bottom. Technically, I wasn't doing the _hitting_ that time."

Frown still spilling across his face, Yuugi crossed his arms. "Why don't you tell me about stuff like this?"

"It only happened last week." A few days ago, in all actuality - not to mention that he'd come into the shop the _morning after._

"That's a long time, you know, to not tell that to someone who used to - you know, keep your spirit...inside them and stuff."

They'd done a lot more than that, certainly, but Yami appreciated his avoiding the issue. He was sure that neither of them wanted to turn this into a conversation about their relationship with each other. "Yuugi - are you having _withdrawal issues?_"

"That's not it, Yami!" Yuugi sped his pace for all of two seconds, walking ahead of Yami so that he could turn and bar his path. "I just feel like that was important and I should have known that you were going out with someone!"

"Oh_ Ra,_ Yuugi. We're not going out."

"_Then what the fuck are you doing?"_ The poor boy sounded so confused, and his voice was becoming more of a shout by the second.

"Fucking, pretty much." Yami's hands were in his pockets, fishing for a cigarette. "That was the first time that it happened, too."

Yuugi knew what he was doing. "And when did you start that up again?"

Yami rolled his eyes. "I never stopped; you know that. I just don't do it around you and Gramps."

Yuugi looked as though he had really wanted to believe that Yami had quit.

"Look, Yuugi - fine. I get it. Growing apart and all of that after school special shit." He quickly found his lighter and took a much needed drag. "I don't secretly hate you or anything like that."

Yuugi still looked uncomfortable. "...I'm glad. I was worried."

"I know."

"...I just don't want you to feel weird about me hanging out with him."

_That_ took Yami a moment to piece together. "...you mean Mokuba? Yuugi - you could sleep with Mokuba and I wouldn't care. He can take care of himself."

"Why would you say something like that? You can't sleep with someone three times and not go out with them. It's...it's..." Yuugi was searching for the right word, and their walk fell into silence as Yami waited for him to find it. "...it's ungentlemanly."

Yami laughed as they reached Gramps's van parked on the curb. "Believe me, I'm no prize; if Mokuba wanted to date me he would have asked."

"...so you just..._slept together?_ There was no pretense at all?"

"There was the pretense that I wanted him, considering how fucking good looking he is. And he's not a stranger."

Yuugi sighed, kicking his feet. "Am I driving or you?"

"You," Yami said. "I don't feel like it. Here, hold this," he said, handing Yuugi the last quarter of his cigarette while he put on his jacket.

...his eyes slid suspiciously over to Yuugi when the slighter boy took a long drag, expecting a cough; but Yuugi pulled things off quite smoothly, smoke clouding the air for just a second as he exhaled.

"What?" Yuugi said afterward.

Yami made his stare a bit more focused and less surprised, and Yuugi stuck out his tongue. "Just because I don't smoke doesn't mean I don't know how to - tastes terrible by the way; I don't know what you people like about it - you smoke, Jou smokes and Mokuba smokes."

"Mokuba's only been back a week or two."

"If you've already slept with him, I think it's safe to count him."

"...touché."

Yuugi walked around to the driver's side of the car, smiling now and flicking the cigarette into the street even though there was some left. Yami rolled his eyes and got into the car when the door unlocked. "Is there anything else that I should know?"

Yami laughed again. "Of course there is," he said, glad he had the opportunity to make his _hikari_ feel included. "Seto called..."

Yuugi's eyes widened as he started the truck. "Today?"

"No no - while I was at Mokuba's."

"Sounds a bit awkward."

"...Mokuba told him we were _fucking_..."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!"

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited: **6/30/12

There! Yay! Let it be said that I promote good hikari/yami relationships!

I like this scene! I wanted them to have drifted apart at the time that Be Cool happens, but only in personal interaction; I don't think that living together and helping Gramps the way that they are in this story they would be far apart or distant from each other. Other than some of Yami's personal angst there aren't many problems with their life.

Also-yay for Yuugi being in school...sparingly. I like this better than the conversation with Mokuba. ^_^

FYI: this is prompt #19.

"I will return, for I am the darkness..."


	6. Wet

**Summary: **_It was a bit hard explaining to himself that he couldn't just call Mokuba up for a fuck whenever he was free._

* * *

Mokuba was working regularly now that he'd settled into Domino. He had to be at work by ten and was out by six everyday, but was off on weekends. Of course he was allowed unpaid overtime, much in the Kaiba fashion of work ethic.

Yami's own schedule was pretty much from noon to six on Monday through Wednesday (perhaps earlier if Yuugi's grandfather wasn't feeling particularly well), and whatever hours Yuugi spent in class on Thursday morning and afternoon. The rest of the week was his, as Yuugi covered the weekend and Sunday.

This was a Friday, so he had the day off (although his phone was on in case of emergencies). Yami supposed he would just shoot-the-shit reading and roaming around the city like he typically did, but it was a bit hard explaining to himself that he couldn't just call Mokuba up for a fuck whenever he was free. He'd forgotten how frustrating it was having to match schedules with other people, and didn't like it one bit. Not now that he knew that he could get some regularly.

The only redeeming quality to what time Mokuba did spend with him was the early morning sex. At the risk of sounding like at least a dozen different things Yami didn't care for even when it came to himself, he was very fond of satisfying his carnal desires at dawn..

Dawn had always been his favorite time of the day, especially when he'd been alive in his own time. There was no light more magnificent than that of the rising sun; no moment more sacred than when Ra saw fit to travel to earth once again. The way it chased away the darkness, glittered over water, kissed skin with its warm glow... Even then, he could see in his mind's eye the silhouette of curves arching in its luminous glory. One soul, split into two bodies and honoring the fortune given to them, the gods shining behind them as a testament to their -

- and that was about as far as he was going to reminisce. Memories were dangerous.

They usually had sex in the shower, which Yami had learned to appreciate. It was convenient not having to bother trekking to another room for clean-up, they could stay practically as long as they wanted, and Mokuba wasn't as picky about condoms when they were in the shower-that was something that Yami couldn't help but appreciated. Mokuba's hair was always slick in the shower, and the ex-Pharaoh had always thought he looked sexier that way, water falling all over his body like something out of a men's magazine. _Always_. On the downside, Mokuba always wanted to be really..._close_ when they were in the shower, with all of the whispers and sweet nothings and the mushy shit that he liked. Yami just wasn't really good at that type of thing.

It was a bit annoying.

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited: **7/5/12 - I actually added a little bit to this, and I thought that it was well deserved. Yami's got some serious skeletons in this closet, and it's suitable for them to be hinted at here. I like this a lot more than I thought I did the first time. Original commentary below.

Baaaaaaaaaaack to short ones. However, despite this one being short, it's just a small bit of insight into Mokuba and Yami after Mokuba starts working regularly. Just Yami bitching mostly, which he is very wont to do...

I don't like this one as much as the others. I'll have to see if I can do something better next time.

FYI: this was #62


	7. Best Friends

**Summary:** _Some facts of life were funny that way: Mokuba hadn't bothered trying to compare the two of them until he'd begun sleeping with Yami._

* * *

Here they were, a coffee house decorated with wooden furniture polished until they could see themselves in it; his kind of place. Their kind of place, to be honest.

Some facts of life were funny that way: Mokuba hadn't bothered trying to compare the two of them until he'd begun sleeping with Yami. He had always been one of the first to accept that they were different - separate - even when he'd been younger in age. It was such an easy thing to understand. Yuugi had often times seemed _so different_ when he dueled, and this explained why. Rather than makings the situation more confusing, things were clearer than they had been in a long time. Yami's presence had explained the villainous forces in Domino, the constant danger they had all been in, the Shadow Realm and the bodies its soul-stealing essence had left behind. Fiascos that, quietly as it was kept, Seto Kaiba had gone through great lengths to conceal from the eye of the public. It had been the easiest thing in the world for him to comprehend.

Not to mention that it had been rather cool, to hold an item that contained the spirit of an ancient Pharaoh. Scenarios like that didn't happen every day. And yet, Yuugi had been so nervous about explaining the tale to anyone who hadn't been taken back to Egypt with him. He had been afraid that his friends would reject both the story and him. It was a bit difficult to deny such a thing, for Mokuba, especially when Yami had been standing right in front of him.

Mokuba had spoken to Yuugi more often back then, in the times before he had been sent off to school. The two of them had been not close, but certainly their friendship had been on that path. From how Yuugi had put things, Mokuba offered more of a clear head when it came to expressing his mixed bag of feelings. Saving the world was not something that was easy to get over, and when everything was said and done Yuugi had fallen into what Mokuba had called at the time "hero's regret". Yuugi was taking the time to look back at all of the decision he had made, looking at the conclusion and wondering about the mistakes he had made along the way. At the time Mokuba had wondered about Yami - though they had hardly known each other - and had wondered if he was suffering from the same thoughts, haunted by the same ghosts. How alike were they? There had to have been more than a deepening voice and sharper, colder eyes.

Never could Mokuba have imagined sleeping with him. At the time, Mokuba couldn't have imagined sleeping with anyone.

Now that he was on good terms with both of them, he was able to notice very subtle differences. Yuugi's posture was much more straight, blinked a bit more often when he was excited; he drummed his fingers on the table when he was feeling impatient, wrung his hands when he was worried. Yuugi always smiled, and only frowned when things were very, very wrong. There was a smile for every expression: he had a nervous smile, a melancholy one, and somehow an even brighter smile that reached his eyes when he received news that was overwhelmingly good. Yuugi wore his heart on his sleeve - Yami appeared to be the opposite.

There were similarities, however: the both of them leaned toward the person they were speaking to when they felt that the information exchanged was important. Of course, here the definition of 'important' was relative here. Their eyebrows moved in similar ways, even when their eyes and lips did not. They both crossed their arms when they were annoyed - it was quite an odd sight, watching Yuugi with crossed arms and a contrasting smile. Mokuba was sure that there were more habits to observe, but he had only just returned, and people tended to form new ones over time.

It would be interesting to see what other attributes they shared. For now, though, he would simply enjoy the company of an old friend. Yami had filled the gaps in his time for the last two weeks. It was easy to get lost in good sex and decent companionship, but it was time to spend a bit of time with someone else.

They talked of rather typical things, at least for a while.

Yuugi had been in school half-time for the past several years while helping his grandfather with the Kame Game Shop. While it was unfortunate to hear about his Sugoroku's scruples with aging, it was nice to know that the shop had survived quite well over the years and was still going strong. He could remember spending days at a time with Yuugi and the gang in the upstairs apartment playing Duel Monsters and finally feeling at peace with a group of individuals who understood him in some large capacity. Even simply watching a movie with Jounouchi and Honda squabbling for the remote was a fond memory that meant the world to him. It was those memories that kept him hopeful that he would be welcomed back to Domino with open arms. It was both scary and immensely flattering that he had been right.

Mokuba had discussed the idea of Yuugi working at KaibaCorp. It was not something that the latter wanted to do, and he had known that when he made the suggestion, but he felt it necessary nonetheless. KaibaCorp's ethics weren't something that Yuugi would make himself a part of, but the job paid handsomely and with a bit of pushing it could nearly guaranteed that his grandfather would be taken care of. When Yuugi declined profusely, saying that it would be awkward to work at KaibaCorp because of Yami and 'everything that had happened', Mokuba had gotten the inkling that there was a bit more on Yuugi's mind than the ordeal in Egypt or even saving the world, for that matter. The blush on Yuugi's cheeks further belied his words.

Mokuba sipped on his triple latte and smiled as their chatter fell into silence. He had known what this meeting was for when he'd been asked, but Yuugi was always polite and never went out with a person he didn't like, so he had accepted. Since the ruse had slipped, he figured that this was as good a moment as ever to get straight to the point.

After another moment of silence he smirked into another sip. "Yuugi?" he called quietly.

"Yes?" Yuugi answered, glancing at Mokuba for just a second before staring very pointedly out of the window nearest them.

"How much do you know?" Mokuba said, his eyes waiting to catch Yuugi's when he turned again.

Yuugi reacted exactly the way he had predicted, surprised into meeting his gaze. His face immediate set to a blush, but Mokuba didn't want to make assumptions because Yuugi blushed at almost everything. For all he knew, the two of them could have been thinking of completely separated things, although he seriously doubted it.

"...not as much as you think I do," he said. A wise answer, actually, and one that Mokuba hadn't been expecting.

"Well, Seto knows now - sort of - so there's no use in keeping anything from you," Mokuba said earnestly, stretching a bit in his chair. "What did you want to know?"

He didn't want to go at this like a business meeting, after all. Finding out about your best friend is fucking another friend was an awkward subject to broach and Mokuba just wanted to deal with things the right way. Suddenly he wondered if he'd handled this whole brunch a bit too seriously. The last thing he wanted was to make Yuugi feel more nervous about this, or that it wasn't any of his business. Well, it was sort of none-of-his-business, but Yuugi and Yami were a special case, so far as Mokuba was concerned. No matter how much time he spent with either of them, there was no word to describe the intimacy of a relationship where one person's spirit lived inside of the body of another.

"Nothing," Yuugi said, his voice faltering a bit. "I'm not like that! Yami can do what he wants. I just... I just want to make sure that he's taking good care of you, and you're being good to him, and..."

Mokuba chuckled, amused by the fact that they had been thinking along the same lines, though in opposite directions. "Who exactly are you worried about being hurt here?"

It was interesting, talking to Yuugi about this. Neither one had really given up any information, but there were other things that Mokuba could draw on for clues here and there: when someone was worried about their friend's well-being, for example, they usually mentioned their friend first and not the other person. He wondered just how much Yuugi knew about Yami and his ...tendencies. Appearances were deceiving and to be honest, Mokuba found it hard to believe that Yuugi would remain oblivious to everything forever. Yuugi was optimistic, yes, but not stupid; and Mokuba was no stranger to the innocence act. It was an ability he'd developed himself in the shadow of his brother's cold demeanor.

Appearing innocent was quite an easy task when standing next to Seto Kaiba.

"I... I'm not sure," Yuugi said, and it seemed that he was being honest. "I think it's obvious that I don't know much about the situation, but I just wanted to - I dunno, give out a general warning I guess? You're both old enough, and I'm not Yami's father or brother or anything by any means, but-"

"I think I could count you as close enough, Yuugi, considering all that you've been through."

"I'm just saying I don't want to overstep any boundaries-"

Mokuba had gone through this conversation before, and even though Yuugi was being nice about it, the point was still the same. Why wouldn't it be? Yuugi and Yami were still as close as ever.

"So you're politely threatening to kick my ass if I abuse Yami. Formidable. I don't mind."

Yuugi's face turned redder even though Mokuba had thought it impossible, and for a moment he held his face in his hands. "No, I'm-"

But Mokuba cut him off again, partially to annoy him and partially because he did want to make a point. "I accept your threat."

"What?"

"It's nice to know that Yami's got someone looking out for him, although I have to tell you-he's got quite a set of teeth and claws himself." It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to share anything with Yuugi, and in fact it was the contrary: he felt compelled to make sure that Yuugi was informed. He wasn't willing to break up any pre-existing relationship that the two of them may have had.

As he'd been speaking, Yuugi's expression had undergone quite a metamorphosis. At first he had seemed frightened, more so of the possibility of Mokuba being offended by their conversation. Then the shock had shown through and through as Mokuba welcomed his protective speech. Lastly, Yuugi giggled, hastily covering his mouth at the statement about Yami's 'claws'.

Mokuba wondered absently whether or not Yuugi knew anything about Yami sexually, or if they shared any of the same interests. The wisp of an image passed through his mind of Yuugi splayed underneath him on his bed in Yami's place, and he had to fight the urge to frown and shake his head. He just couldn't see it. Too weird.

After what Mokuba considered too long a silence, Yuugi finally answered, "I believe you." He was still giggling Those giggles gave way to laughter and he pressed on to say, "Yami's into some crazy shit..."

Mokuba tried to hold it in, but he couldn't and soon enough he was laughing harder than his companion. Understatement of the year. There weren't even words to describe how much he agreed with what Yuugi had said. His body began to shake even after he'd stifled himself, and tears were threatening to well in his eyes.

Yuugi seemed vexed, when his laughter had faded away and only Mokuba's remained, by how amused the latter was by all of this. But as the person who had to compensate for that "crazy shit", Mokuba felt he had the right whether or not Yuugi understood.

When he'd finally settled down Yuugi simply watched him, smiling nervously and appearing to be unsure as to whether or not Mokuba was partially offended and was trying to cover it up with laughter.

"That was funny," Mokuba said to ease the tension, his fingers reaching to twirl themselves in his hair. Then he added, "I like you, Yuugi. Really. I think that this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

Yuugi's looked shocked, but he this time there was no hint of a smile on his face at all. "...but I thought... we were already friends..."

Mokuba rolled his eyes.

{FIN}

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**Edited: **7/5/12 - Major changes to this chapter. I added a lot of internal dialogue to this chapter. There were a few things that I think could be better relayed or explained. When I was writing these in the beginning I had this idea that everything I dtype had to be drabble length, under a certain amount of words. However, I've never actually set an official word count for myself and if you're re-reading this you'll realize that my chapters have grown longer as the years have gone by. Original commentary below.

This was Prompt #59.


	8. Talking Dirty

**Summary:** _Yami stirred in the middle of the night. Something was making noise._

* * *

Yami stirred in the middle of the night.

Something was making noise. He was a strange sleeper, alert to the movement and awakedness of others. It was a sensitivity developed by living in constant vigilance of evil presences and, try as he might, that sensitivity had never left him.

Only sure of this one fact, Yami waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness surrounding him that was his room. It was quite annoying, knowing something was wrong and not yet knowing what; relying on his weak body to determine the danger. Turning as silently as he could manage, his eyes swept over the room to the side-table where his puzzle sat - useless as it was now - and he wondered if he'd have known what the disturbance was if it still held the magic it used to. He paused to catch his breath, to calm his nerves. His ears were pounding, and he rolled over to scan the rest of the room-

Whispering. He heard whispering and he was sure of it. But his eyes could recognize the room and there were no items out of place. He could make out the silhouette of the coat hanger near the foot of his bed, even the untouched deck of Duel Monsters card sitting on the windowsill, as small as it was. Not a thing had been moved or disturbed. It had to be Yuugi - that was the only person that he shared a room with. Was the boy talking in his sleep? Muttering to himself before fetching a glass or water or going to the bathroom? It wouldn't have been the first time his sleep had been disturbed by such things and not the first time he had felt foolish for waking in a panic. Yami decided to be quiet and find out.

He strained his ears, unsure of what he was listening for. However as with his eyes it only took a few moments for them to adjust to the silence, other than that singular sound, in the room and focus on what was disturbing it.

"_Oh_, that sounds_... great_," Yuugi was saying. He added something else that Yami couldn't quite hear, and - was that a moan he heard?

"_Yes,_" Yuugi moaned, definitely, and then said something else - Yami only caught the word 'would', and he turned in Yuugi's direction excruciatingly slowly to avoid making noise. There was some shuffling, and Yami saw a sudden light glowing from Yuugi's side of the room. A _phone?_ Who could he possibly be-

Yami tried not to laugh, and rolled over as he put the pieces together. _Phone sex?_ Fucking-Ra-Almighty.

But now he was curious.

_Who is that?_ Then another thought - _was Yuugi fucking off?_ Not that it was disgusting or a turn off, but...with another person in the room? That was... very risky, and kinda kinky. Very kinky. And Yami was faced a question of the ages - should he get up and leave, or rouse loudly to go get some water and not come back... Or simply lay back and enjoy the music?

He was split in favor with all options, because part of him thought that this was a bit hot - even if he wasn't a phone person, he would definitely stay on the phone for something like _this_, especially if he would be getting a _real_ piece of ass later - and part of himf thought it was hilarious. What would Yuugi's reaction be like if he'd stood up right then and told Yuugi to _shut the fuck up_ because he wanted some sleep?

There were too many thoughts at once, and he was listening for a sound or something that would clue him into what was going on - a name, Yuugi's comforter moving rhythmically - anything. Perhaps he was being a bit of a pervert about this, but he wasn't sure what other reaction he could possibly have. Yuugi had his own way just being so damned adorable. Not in the typical sense; Yami knew that his counterpart was no pushover could sometimes be quite the opposite, so seeing such a softer side of him being intimate with another person was quite charming.

He heard another moan (but no name unfortunately), and heard the word "fuck", and that was when Yami decided he was going to get up and leave. It was just the polite thing to do. No cluehow he was going to do it, though; no ideas struck him whatsoever. If Yuugi turned out to _not_ be beating off, he was going to be disappointed. Might as well go all the way if you're in the act anyway - a personal philosophy of Yami's.

Another moment passed before he made a decision, and he rolled over noisily, rustling sheets and kicking his entire body in an attempt to attract attention. There was a muffled "_hang on..._" from Yuugi and after that, Yami tumbled out of bed, his body noisily smacking the floor.

Yuugi turned over to face him, quick as lightning (though he didn't leave the bed thank Ra), and he said loudly, "Fuck! Are you okay?" His voice cracked somewhere along the way, and Yami let out his own string of curses to make things seem a bit more realistic. Falling hadn't quite happened on purpose, but he hadn't really harmed himself in any way. He saw the phone's light go out, and mumbled a bit more for effect.

"Yami - Yami, wake up," Yuugi said, clearing his throat.

"Aww Ra," Yami moaned as he stretched his limbs. He had impacted a bit harder than he'd intended to.

Yuugi looked a bit worried, but Yami noticed that other than turning over, he still hadn't moved - he got the mental image of Yuugi without pants, and he had to keep his face hidden to hide his smile. "Are you okay?" Yuugi asked again.

"What the fuck do you think, Yuugi? I just fell!" He said, clearing his own throat, grumbling a bit more and adjusting his shirt. Then without further ado, he pushed himself up to his feet, running hands through his hair and stretching for show.

"Nightmare?" Yuugi asked, and Yami tried hard not to point out that Yuugi's body couldn't be leaning any farther out from his bed without falling out himself.

"Fuck," Yami swore, saying nothing to Yuugi but marching out of the door, a blanket and pillow in his hands, doing his best to seem moody and furious. He didn't slam the door, though - he didn't want to wake up Gramps.

Once the door was closed behind him, he leaned back against it, sighing. He didn't think he could take another moan from Yuugi - the sound reminded him of Mokuba, all innocently quiet - even though he knew better to believe that Yuugi would ever be that soft with him, having such a cute, submissive voice in his ear was still tantalizing. He very much envied the person on the other end of the line.

Shaking his head to get those sorts of thoughts out of his head, he smirked to himself at a job well done and moved to go downstairs. The couch wouldn't be so bad.

{FIN}

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**Edited:** 7/6/12 - I added a few more things to this to fill it out a bit more, but if you've read this one before there's no additional content besides expanded descriptions and a few more references to other things within the story.

Not sure what to think of this one. I know exactly who Yuugi is talking to, but it didn't seem prudent to reveal the name here in this one. Perhaps it will turn up a bit later ^_^

FYI: This is prompt #43.


	9. Writhe

**Summary: **_This was the kind of thing that Yami did, and he couldn't really complain. especially since the last time they'd gone out he'd gotten drunk off his ass and was puking everywhere; at least, from what he remembered._

* * *

What an odd name for a club.

Mokuba really wasn't a dance club kind of guy - he was more of a hangout kind of guy, like a bar. That had been obvious when he'd had everyone over for his homecoming celebration instead of going out somewhere. But this was the kind of thing that Yami did, and he couldn't really complain. Especially since the last time they'd gone out he'd gotten drunk off his ass and was puking everywhere; at least, from what he remembered.

What was surprising, however, was that Yuugi had come along for the ride. Mokuba hadn't pegged Yuugi as a clubbing sort of guy, but apparently this was a place that he and Yami were both familiar with. From there everyone else had been invited and before Mokuba knew he'd gained the knowledge that they all liked this club a lot.

The first partition of the club, upon walking in and being checked for weapons, was the bar, which was Mokuba's favorite place in any establishment. The music was loud, blaring, industrial, and ...American? He recognized the song that was playing - and knew that although he could name the title and artist he was sure that Yami could not. Maybe Yuugi, but considering that he didn't know about the Wizard of Oz, it was unlikely that he listened to a lot of Western music.

"What's wrong?" Yami grunted, turning to face him. If Mokuba didn't know any better, he would have thought that Yami cared about his opinion of the place.

Yuugi skipped on ahead, that plucky smile on his face that Mokuba thought was oh-so-endearing. He looked way too innocent for a club like this, although likely it was suited to his tastes. He and Yami weren't that different, after all.

"Just checkin' the place out," Mokuba said. "That's all. Never been here before." There were a lot of places in Domino he had been too young to visit before he left.

Yami seemed to bristle a little, but took a deep breath. Was he nervous? "Well, I come here quite a bit."

"I know," Mokuba said, and he knew that Yami was nervous. _Is he afraid I won't like it? _"Chill Yami. Is there a place for smoking?"

"There's a special room downstairs for it, with a window."

Mokuba stuck out his tongue. "I guess I won't be having any tonight, I guess. Too hot for that."

"You sure? I'll go with you." A lovely suggestion. Was Yami trying to sneak off already?

Mokuba couldn't help being amused by the offer. "Nah. I don't want it that badly." Yami shrugged and walked ahead, calling for the brunette to follow so that he could give a tour.

The place was simple, and that was something that Mokuba liked about it. There was the bar in the front, coat check next to it, and bathroom were in a hallway straight across from the bar. Made sense. Further in the back there was a dark dance floor; Mokuba could see the strobe lights flashing from where he stood with Yami.

"Where did Yuugi go?" he asked, when he noticed that their friend was nowhere in sight.

"Probably dancing," Yami said, trailing off as though he didn't care to think too much about it. "I think everyone else is already here. What do you want to drink?"

"Are we allowed to have drinks on the dance floor?" he asked, and Yami nodded. "A few beers, to be honest - I'm not particular about the kind right now."

"Pitchers go 700 yen apiece tonight."

Mokuba wasn't really trying to get fucked up, but maybe he'd see Yami in his natural element if they drank enough together."Good, get whatever you want." He dug in his pocket for a few bills and handed them over. No use letting anyone else buy drinks for him when they were that cheap.

"There are tables over there," Yami pointed out. And there were, in the hall section between the bar and the entrance to the dance floor. The areas on either side were populated with mismatching tables and chairs, some of them decorated and some of them plain. "Grab one."

The music was loud, and Mokuba's voice rose as he moved away from Yami. "You said there were other people coming?"

"Yeah," Yami didn't really have to raise his voice to be heard - his baritone barreled through most of the noise in the room, and Mokuba would have recognized it anywhere.. "Honda, Jounouchi and Anzu are all here."

"Otogi couldn't make it?" he asked, remembering that he was at the home-coming party before.

Yami shook his head, and Mokuba turned completely around to find a table.

He had to admit; for an alternative club it was awfully busy, but not in an irritating way. There seemed to be people everywhere, chatting it up - some people were in costume, which he should have expected but hadn't. All sorts gathered here, and nearly every style was represented: lolita, preppy, gothic, cyber, something that Mokuba could only describe as glowstick - there was even a man walking around in an old-style _hakama_.

Most of the tables were square, with chairs pulled up to them in ragged order; obviously there wasn't any. There was a television in one of the sitting areas running a string of music videos in line with the songs that were playing. Mokuba didn't see anyone that he was familiar with, and he wasn't quite sure what to think. Other patrons were grouped together almost in packs, and after glancing around again Mokuba noticed that almost everyone there was accompanied at least one other person. He looked quite alone.

Tucking his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, he contemplated checking it in so that he wouldn't have to worry about it. The place was really warm, particularly because there were so many people, so he imagined that the dance floor was going to be much hotter. He chuckled to himself, wondering for a moment what Seto would think if he'd known that his little brother had been in a place like this. _It doesn't matter_, he told himself, because it didn't, and fully recognized that it was very petty to have thoughts like that.

It only took a moment for Yami to find him with the pitcher and two glasses. Mokuba noticed that Yami's white shirt, under his faux leather vest, was glowing purple because of the ultraviolet lighting. Mokuba poured himself a glass, and downed it.

"I wonder how strong the drinks get in here." Yami eyed him with a look that told the brunette that he didn't want to have to worry about toting around a drunken Mokuba this time. "I don't plan on getting drunk," he added, to be clear.

It didn't seem as though Yami believed him, as he changed the subject while pouring a glass of his own. "How's your shitty job doing?"

This question caught Mokuba off guard completely; Yami never asked about his work, and the no one could be blamed for that as far as Mokuba was concerned; everyone knew what KaibaCorp did, what it was capable of, and had even met several of the individuals Seto listed in his employ, although those were personal guards. The sort of people who worked for KC were varied, but further up the chain personalities began to blend. Many of them were surprisingly like Kaiba himself.

Mokuba almost lost hold of his words, but he managed a feeble, "...same as always." He wasn't quite sure how to answer. It wasn't the most welcoming answer, but it was the most he could come up with on short notice.

"What about the shop?" he returned, slowly coming to the realization that they were making small talk. It wasn't as though he and Yami never spoke about anything at all, but something about this moment was definitely setting off his awkward-meter.

"It's good. Been busy - that's why I'm glad to be here."

Mokuba reached for the pitcher again, poured himself another glass and downed it quickly. Cheap beer always hit the spot. Instinct told him that he should get up, loosen up and dance; at the same time, he wanted to do something to alleviate this... awkwardness. It felt wrong, not being able to have a smooth, casual conversation with someone that he slept with regularly.

He cleared his throat. "Seto hasn't been talking to me lately." There, something personal.

Yami scoffed. "Is that a bad thing?"

Mokuba thought about not answering that, or deflecting it with another comment. Yami's commentary had been casual enough to give him a decision about whether or not to discuss it. But Yami had asked about it, so why not?

"Kinda. He is my brother, after all. There's a lot of stuff that I haven't spoken with him about."

"...for example...?" The fact that Yami was curious about the situation at all seemed to be a good indicator to Mokuba, so he sighed and began to explain.

"Well, he's just...not okay with who I am right now," Mokuba laughed, rather ashamed that he couldn't phrase it in a different, better way. There just wasn't a way to make that more positive. "And, you know - he's my brother. I don't care, but I do."

"You can't do both," Yami said. "You have to either care or not care. There needs to be a decision made on that." His voice was firm, even as he sipped from his beer. Well wasn't _he_ wise?

"I know," Mokuba said, trying not to sound too emotional. He knew that Yami wasn't into the 'listening' gag, and he wanted this to last as long as it could. "Things are just turning out to be a bit more difficult than I expected. When I first came back, I knew that Seto was going to have a hard time accepting who I've become. But it's just ...weird. It's not even that he's objected to what I am - he doesn't even want to find out who that is. Other than yes or no questions he hasn't bothered at all. So far Seto's just made a lot of stereotypical judgments, and that's what he uses to decide how to treat me."

"Then fuck him," Yami said, as though it were just that easy. "It doesn't seem to me that you have the time to waste on him."

"That's how I felt at first, but...he's my brother. It seems like I owe him a bit more persistence, you know? It would be like, if Yuugi distanced himself from you - wouldn't you try hard to recapture some of your old closeness?" It was the closest analogy that Mokuba could think of for Yami - he didn't know anything about the man's past (life).

"That's different, I think," Yami said, reaching the bottom of his glass. He refilled it calmly and went back to sipping before continuing. "The closeness that I feel with Yuugi is...not only emotional. It is..." Yami's voice had changed, Mokuba noticed; it wasn't the nonchalance that he always used these days.

It was the voice that he'd had when they'd first met, when Mokuba was younger. The Pharaoh's voice, no slang or drawl. "We are not connected as siblings, through the womb; or like soulmates, via the heart - Yuugi and I, for all intents and purposes, were the same person. When we're distanced from each other, we can feel it as it happens. With yourself and Seto, you realized how distanced you were while you were away and spoke to him when you returned. Even your imagination could not create accurately the scenario of how much had changed. With Yuugi, I can sense it - feel it - at the same time that he does."

There was a small pause as he took another sip of beer. "But, I will say that I know what you are talking about. "I had a friend - once." Mokuba could tell from the way that Yami had said it that he was referring to another time, another place, and he didn't want to break the moment by questioning it so he just listened. "And we grew up together, he and I - very close. One day however, he decided that he was going to join a militia for his village, to protect it. They went on conquests for land and to help neighboring cities, things like that, and two years passed before we saw each other again. When we did, he was a completely different man, hardened by the things he had seen. It is a typical story - but sometimes, Mokuba, we are not meant to remain with the same people forever. Fate has its own way of conducting things, and we are not always so lucky to be taken into consideration when plans are made."

Mokuba didn't respond right away, letting the information sink in and mulling it over. When he did speak, it was to ask a question. "Are you saying that-"

"I am saying," Yami interrupted him, as though he had predicted the assumption that he was going to make, "that regardless of what Fate has in store, your decisions shape who you are - not necessarily the outcome. If you feel that your brother is important enough for you to continue to try to win him over, then do it. Even if it fails, there is still the proof that you cared for him. There are many people who don't get the chance to make that decision."

It was odd, being given thought-provoking advice from Yami, if not actually attractive on an intellectual level. For quite some time Mokuba had been wondering what had happened to the bold King that he'd met in those duels years ago, and what had made him into the man that he was now. Not that there was anything wrong with Yami, but Mokuba had been gone for quite a while and it had made a difference, as he'd already known with Seto. He couldn't exactly say that Yami's behavior was at all like what he expected from a former Pharaoh.

"Thanks," Mokuba said, trying his best to gratefully accept the counsel while juggling his other thoughts. Was it wrong to want to screw someone silly after receiving advice from them?

Yami nodded, and downed his second glass of beer. "Do you want to finish that up? I'm going to find the others." Mokuba tried his best not to panic, unsure of whether or not that meant that he was trying to get away from seriousness of their discussion. But he agreed and off Yami went to the dance floor. It wasn't that hard to find someone at the bar counter to take the rest of the pitcher - no one turned down a free drink and somehow he wasn't in the mood for being drunk. The short conversation with Yami had actually helped cheer him up. To be honest he felt more like smoking after such an intense conversation, but shook off the urge and made his way to the dance floor instead, following where Yami had gone.

He began to look around at some of the other patrons of the club and scoped out some of their outfits; curvy women who were dressed in nothing but corsets and leggings, a man wearing a gas mask and a few younger teens dressed in lolita style dresses - very cute. Glow sticks and flashing lights abound, Mokuba was impressed by the creativity of some of these clubgoers after having a closer look. Very innovative. There were a few clubs like this in the 'States - but of course there were. There was a bit of everything in the 'States.

As he transitioned to the dance floor the music changed, the beat's volume louder than the words for the song. His feet felt the change of friction on the floor and he was enveloped by the sea of bodies, muttering small 'excuse me's as he pushed his way through. There were quite a few people there that night, and he was unsure of how he was going to find anyone that he knew. He would just have to keep looking.

A minute passed without his friends in sight and he thought to pull out his cellphone and call - it would just be more convenient that way. Moving toward the corner of the room, where he could see a bit of empty space, he dialed Yami's number. It was picked up immediately after the first ring.

"It's Yuugi," the voice on the other end said before Mokuba got a chance to say much else. "I'm holding Yami's phone for him. Where are you?"

"Trying to find you all," Mokuba said. "Where are _you_?"

"In the back on the left side from the entrance."

Mokuba tried his best not to facepalm himself, since he had just walked to the complete opposite corner. "Alright, I'm coming."

"That's what she said!" Yuugi exclaimed over the music, and a laugh sounded before he hung up the phone.

Mokuba wasn't sure what to think about what had just happened but he put his phone away, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to let the crowd carry him over to the other end. He wasn't the only person moving, and it wasn't as difficult getting to Yuugi as it had been getting through the room the first time.

When he reached them at last he found that the whole gang was there, and realized that Jounouchi and the the rest had arrived long before them; Mokuba could clearly smell the alcohol. Yuugi was a bit further back behind the main group, dancing between two women that Mokuba was sure he didn't even know the names of.

Mokuba couldn't help smiling at the sight. Anzu was dancing between Jounouchi and Honda, looking a bit sheepish and self conscious but it seemed as though she was having a bit of fun.

Yami was being surprisingly reclusive. He wasn't dancing with anyone, simply sitting on a bench that wound itself along the edges of the dance floor. Mokuba removed his jacket as he felt the temperature steadily climbing, and he sat next to his lover tentatively.

"Everything okay?" he asked. He looked rather pensive.

The song that had been playing was ending, and everyone was winding down. Jounouchi and Honda came overto them, interjecting with hugs and greetings and even if Yami had been about the answer he wouldn't have had the chance. Anzu said hello in a way that made it clear that she secretly hoped he hadn't been watching her dance. Mokuba gave her no reason to believe that he had been ogling her, although her body did look a bit more curvaceous than usual in the red dress she was wearing.

Yuugi, still in the corner, was talking to those girls. Mokuba watched one of them walk away while the other continued to talk, sitting close. It was hard to describe being happy for someone who probably just scored a date. Encouraging your friends in their romantic lives was something that he now knew was completely Western outside of advice, so he kept those feelings to himself. So instead Mokuba greeted everyone and made small talk about the weather and being surprised at Yuugi and having a good time and about the music. It worked pretty well; Jounouchi seemed particularly interested in knowing what was playing.

By the time that they'd taken a rest and were ready to go back to dancing, Yami had gotten up and begun to mill through the crowd. Mokuba wasn't going to stop him, and he continued his conversation with the others.

Anzu asked him to dance, and he did, his body language totally different from when he'd drunkenly danced for Yami (something that he barely remembered, at that). He had been right - Anzu was quite nervous, pretty much just rocking to the beat. She nearly jumped when Mokuba slipped an arm around her back, rocking with her and bouncing to the beat. He didn't mind keeping pace with someone else at all.

"You know, Anzu," he said, pulling her a bit closer, "the point of dancing is supposed to be to have fun. I know that you do ballet so this is a bit different, but just ...you know, be yourself."

She blushed - or maybe that was the red strobe light? Mokuba knew it wasn't, but it was more flattering to pretend that it could have been something else.

"I'm sorry. I'm not really good at club dancing. I can move, but I don't really want to look like a... slut or something." Her last few words came out as a frail giggle and although he could see her shoulders shaking the sound was lost in the music.

"Club dancing?" Mokuba said, pulling back from her while taking her hand and moving her into a twirl. She laughed in response but followed him through.

Honda and Jounouchi were back sitting on the bench, and from the corner of his eye he could see them straining to listen to what was being said.

"There's no such thing as club dancing. Just feel the beat and move whatever way feels natural. You could do a pirouette if you wanted to. Splits. A cabbage patch." That last reference may have been too American. "You can't look stupid in a club like this - they're all drunken idiots anyway. _We're_ all drunken idiots anyway."

"...okay," she said, and she took a dainty step forward on her toes, turning a complete three hundred and sixty degrees before moving her hips a bit more. She was loosening up.

"If it ends up being that hard, you could always go drink so that you don't care about who's watching you." Jounouchi and Honda laughed from their place nearby, and Mokuba sat on the bench, watching Anzu have fun. She had caught the downbeat and was going now, not even bothering to ask anyone to dance with her.

Suddenly Yuugi was upon them, the girl that he'd been talking to going on her way "Where'd Yami go?" Suddenly Yuugi was upon them, the girl that he'd been talking to going on her way. He was specifically asking Mokuba, and as though he'd realized what he'd done, he whispered an almost silent "_...guys..._?" It wasn't attaching itself to his question, though, and the younger Kaiba was sure no one else had heard it but him.

"Off to find someone to dance with, maybe, or to get a drink," Honda said. "He looked kind of upset. Something going on?"

Mokuba felt a bit relieved, to say the least, that he wasn't the only person here who was concerned for Yami. Mokuba wasn't sure how his partner felt about other people knowing that they slept together. Mokuba didn't mind, but they'd never talked about it outside of Yuugi specifically.

"Not that I know of," Yuugi answered. Then he smiled. "Mokuba? Do you think you could go look for him?" Yuugi's expression was as sweet as pie, and Mokuba thought he might contract a cavity just from making eye-contact. Did he have to be so... obvious?

"Sure," Mokuba said, taking a moment to straighten his black button up out before plunging into the crowd.

It wasn't until he'd gotten a fair ways away that he thought - _what if Yuugi knows what's wrong with Yami?_

It was a strange dynamic that the former Pharaoh had described earlier, being able to feel the emotions between himself and Yuugi while they were changing. Did they always know how the other felt? Or only about things concerning the two of them? It was something that he was going to have to ask about sooner or later, particularly because he knew those questions would eat at him on the inside until he did.

When Mokuba did find Yami he was in a corner of the bar, nursing something Mokuba was sure was a Gin and Tonic—the Lime on the side was a giveaway, and so was the short shape of the glass.

Then Mokuba paled and nearly choked on the breath he was taking.

Yami was whispering something secretively, to a person that Mokuba had never thought he'd ever see again - ever. There was no mistaking that dark skin or the contrasting hair, no way he wouldn't recognize that horrendous, attention grabbing hoodie; he would never forget seeing that Millennium Item, tucked into the same belt loop it had been in a decade ago.

It was Marik Ishitar alright, dressed in his usual getup, pale hair sticking up in all directions and leaning much closer to Yami than he was comfortable with seeing. Although he couldn't see much of Marik's face, the curve of his cheek suggested that he was smiling. Yami, for his part, was chuckling over his drink.

The disgust that Mokuba could feel showing on his face was something that he was unaccustomed to, and he never entered a situation without the ability to properly handle himself if he could help it. Nothing good could come from his interrupting their conversation, so he turned away to go back to the dance floor.

His memories of Marik were not pleasant, despite the good note on which he seemed to have left amongst the others. Being possessed, or whatever issue Marik had been dealing with during the Battle City Tournament had scared the living shit out of Mokuba back then, and he wasn't going to pretend he was comfortable with the man's presence after all of the things he'd heard and seen. Hadn't he returned to Egypt or something? What was he doing back in Domino? And why the fuck was Yami chatting him up like a long lost friend?

Mokuba stopped in the crowd and took a deep breath. He was overreacting. There was no reason for such hostility. The past had already been sorted, Marik had done nothing to him in so much as the past five years, and Yami didn't need to explain shit to him. Repeating those thoughts like a mantra, he prepared to make his way back to the others. He'd tell them that he couldn't find Yami, that it was hard looking through the sea of people or that make Yami had gone out to smoke. _Yeah, that would work_.

Then against his better judgment Mokuba glanced back one last time; he was unsure of why he had the urge. Maybe deep down he was hoping that he'd been seeing things, that there was another person in that crazy club that looked just like Marik but wasn't. Maybe he was hoping to see Yami going off, for whatever reason, to satisfy his petty sense of unease. Or perhaps he wanted to torture himself, verify the drunken blush on Yami's cheeks or try to catch what he'd assumed was a cheeky look in Marik's eyes.

He saw none of those things.

He did, however, catch Yami's eyes looking into the crowd. Nothing could be done as they spotted him, recognized him and settled on him; rather than react he hastily turned and stalked through the crowd.

Mokuba hadn't expected to be noticed.

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited:** 7/8/12 - I added a bit to this one, so you may want to read through again. Original commentary below.

This one ended kind of abruptly, but I think I did it that way on purpose. I think. XD

About this particular story, it IS long, but there's a lot of things in here. We get an additional character; we also get Yuugi dancing 'wit bitches in da club'-a funny image. There are a number of things that happen here in the background as well. ^^

This was prompt #2


	10. Cherries

**Summary: **_If we're going to talk about this subject - if you want me to talk about this - I'm going to need a few drinks._

* * *

"It's a shot," Mokuba was saying, and he made the break.

The balls scattered but none of them made it into the pockets. Yami chuckled at him - Mokuba had said that he wasn't great at pool but he wasn't _that _bad, after all.

"I'm actually surprised that you've never had it before. It seems like you drink a lot."

Yami shrugged, surveying the table for a good angle. There really weren't any, but he thought that he might be able to make a ricochet. He _did _drink a lot, but to be honest he didn't try very many new things outside of what he was recommended by other people or shit he already knew was good. And he said as much.

"Anyway," Mokuba replied, "it tastes good but I know a lot of people who don't like cherry flavor."

Yami made for number seven, which was sitting in a corner next to number ten in the top left pocket. It nicked the ten but didn't push it in. Oh, well - at least he had another turn. Just like that, two in the pocket.

"'You buy it, I'll try it," he said.

For a change, they'd gone out - which was a change of pace for the both of them but not an unwelcome one. The last week or so they hadn't seen each other at all; apparently Mokuba was representing KaibaCorp to some large potential client and had a lot of work to do. Since the outing at _Writhe _had gone well enough, Yami didn't think it would be so bad to go out again. As much as Mokuba wanted to be at home he also didn't want to be, and Yami knew what that was like so he agreed to meet him out at the bar.

Mokuba smiled, and for a moment the former Pharaoh felt the flicker of one on his face as well.

As much as he hadn't wanted to admit it, he needed to find more things to do without Mokuba around. While Yuugi was a great partner when he wasn't studying and Jou and the others were good for drinking, Mokuba was actually rather _fun _and his large personality was noticeable when it wasn't there. The sex, though good, had been absent for an entire week. That was brutal for Yami, who had grown used to having it whenever he asked.

By Ra, Mokuba was spoiling him.

"Good. I'll order it after I get my turn. Watching you, I don't think it'll be any time soon. Since when were you good at pool?"

Yami's smile turned into a smirk. He felt as though he had the upper hand; there were plenty of things Mokuba didn't know about him. "I shoot a lot at the bars I go to after work. I picked up a thing or two from the people around there." He went for a number three which sat in the middle of the table but didn't make it. "I'm alright, but with more practice I could be much better.."

"I see. I've never had the hand for it." Mokuba's grip was good and solid, though. He just didn't have the hang of angling the balls themselves or using a specific amount of force. It was something that had to be practiced often or it was easily forgotten. "But I suppose that's why they call you the King of Games."

None of the balls were in a convenient position now, and Mokuba didn't hit anything at all. Yami was watching for an opening but there wasn't much that he could do, either.

"I'll go get it."

Yami had never thought about it that way before - that his skill at games was attributed to picking up pool so quickly. The thought was immediately put out of his mind; it cheapened the achievement.

It was his turn now, while Mokuba got up to get the cherry jelly shot. He had nothing against the flavor - he just didn't know anything about it. But his mind soon turned to other things, like Mokuba's silence concerning Marik's presence in Domino. Yami had seen the look on the brunette's face at the club, and it had been nothing short of absolute terror. The former Pharaoh wasn't sure exactly what had happened between the two of them for Marik's appearance to get that sort of reaction, but he had a feeling that it was a bit beyond anything he could think of. Mokuba had actually looked _terrified_. What was worse was that Mokuba had never mentioned it, never brought it up.

He poised himself for another attempt on the billiard table, leaning over the edge to help increase his accuracy. Yami almost didn't want to play the game anymore, after what Mokuba had said, but he'd stick it out he supposed. There was liquor forthcoming so he couldn't complain. He aimed for a number four that was lined up with another near the middle left pocket. He could get it if he just shifted a bit more to the right-

"Well, look what we have here," he heard in playful tones above him. Yami smirked when he felt hips press against his ass, although he didn't turn around or answer. Instead he made the pocket, feeling a bit better about himself before turning to give Mokuba his attention.

"Is that a proposition?" he asked his partner, knowing that the answer was no but being coy anyway.

"Maybe, if you keep bending over on the table like that. Here." As petite as he was he couldn't have been that appealing, but Yami took the compliment anyway and turned to take the shot glass, too. He gulped it down in one go before handing the glass back, the alcohol burning down his throat with a smooth but flavored kick. It wasn't bad.

"Dammit, Yami; you didn't even wait to see what was in it."

"Vodka?"

"No, I had them made with rum..." Mokuba said, sighing. "Did you even like it?"

"What I tasted, yeah; I wouldn't say no to another."

"Want mine?"

Yami tutted. "I don't think I want to be drunk around you. Don't tempt me." It wasn't often that Yami got himself drunk as of late, but he tended to become a bit ..._easy_ when he did, and that was something that he would rather avoid. Having seen Mokuba make a fool of himself had already given him the upper hand. The reverse wasn't necessary.

Mokuba shrugged, took his shot and sat both empty glasses on the table. "I won't. You've seen me plastered and it didn't do any good."

"I got laid; that was good enough," Yami countered.

"Yeah, and I got a massive hangover and to throw up in a bathroom whose location I don't remember at all."

"I could take you back there," Yami joked. "You seemed to like the sake."

"No thank you," Mokuba said. He looked at the table. "It's still your turn."

"I know," Yami said, and went to the other side of the table to aim for the next pocket. The next couple turns went by without speech. Mokuba went back up to the bar and got them both two more shots each, which was fine with him. Most of it was gelatin anyway, so Yami felt the burn but barely got a buzz.

"Doing anything the rest of the week?" he asked, trying to start another conversation.

"Just work," Mokuba said. iIt was his turn to try and pocket another ball. "I'm thinking about getting in contact with some of my old friends from the states online. I've been texting them and stuff, but it's just not the same, I guess."

"Do you miss them?" Yami inquired. To be honest, he hadn't thought about the fact that Mokuba had returned _from the 'States_. It was certainly an interesting experience to have gone through, he was sure, but the younger Kaiba had seemed annoyed by some of questions Yuugi and Gramps had asked when he first returned and Yami had pinned it as a taboo subject. But, he supposed, his question didn't pry too much-they were sleeping together, after all. They were bound to talk about it sooner or later.

"Of course I do. That's my life, there. I mean... I've had a lot of time with Seto and I mean _a lot_, but... I was out on my own, growing up and stuff - all on my own, without him. I found myself there. I know who I am because I lived there. It's like ...sometimes it's like, I'm just visiting Domino, and New York is where my home really is."

Yami sighed as a thought formed in his mind; the decision was made without thinking and he couldn't believe he was really going to speak his mind on the subject. "Can you get me another shot? I want to loosen myself up."

Any subject involving home or the idea of home was hard for him. He felt a similar way, to what Mokuba had described, about Egypt and everything related to it. It was difficult knowing that he had been born and raised there because it seemed so far away. He had been with Yuugi for such a long time that everything in his past was foreign. The _Kame Game Shop,_ that was his home. Domino was his home. He had seen and heard and touched and tasted Domino for years and anything beyond it was simply alien. But there were some skeletons in that closet of feelings, emotions that hadn't been dusted off in quite sometime.

He'd need some courage to bring this up as a subject - he was either going to pick through every bit and rephrase it to soften it, or he was going to regurgitate his feelings right there on the ground between the two of them. Either way, alcohol would either help him forget his choice after he'd made it or help him get through things a bit more easily than normal..

Mokuba made a face. "I thought you didn't want to get drunk."

"I don't, but if we're going to talk about this subject - if you want me to talk about this - I'm going to need a few drinks."

The brunette looked shocked, and took a nervous step back. "I'm not trying to make you talk about-"

"I know," Yami said, although he probably didn't. "But you shouldn't have to tip-toe around subjects."

"You shouldn't have to drink to talk to me about anything." Mokuba sounded offended.

Yami shrugged. "Well, that's the way it is. Do you want to discuss this or not?"

{FIN}

* * *

**Edited:** 7/8/12 - added a bit so that it wasn't so abrupt, and spaced the paragraphs a lot more.

Clearly, Yami's opening up. The question is: did they have the conversation or not?


	11. Oil

Mokuba loved the feeling of being on his bike. He loved feeling the wind in his hair, the rush of speed going straight to his head and giving him a type of euphoria that driving a car never could. He controlled where he went, unrestricted by lanes. The sun was setting, and Mokuba began to miss the times he'd had in college where he could go out while not in class, to walk under the sky in the middle of the day, stop and study outside, weather permitting, or stroll with someone he knew at a leisurely pace. Work at KaibaCorp was absorbing, and it was difficult not to bring work home with him, the haunting visage of his brother and how often he'd missed spending them with him the only thing keeping him from following int he same path. To be honest, KC wasn't his choice of career. He had to credentials for it, and the experience, but he just didn't enjoy it. Sure, they handled technology that could not only be marketed for the Duel Monsters game but other things as well-but Mokuba didn't really feel any pride in it. It wasn't _him_ in the testing room, theorizing methods of light refraction for maximum visual clarity for hologram visuals-it wasn't him correcting issues with the software coding or issuing patches to fix them. He was just the man pushing the paperwork, the man who memorized the explanations and made it easier for their clients to understand. He sat with them and ate dinner with them and pretended to be interested in the endeavors of their companies, when he wasn't even interested in what he was doing for his own.

He hated his job.

Someone honked at him. The light had turned green and he hadn't moved. He revved the engine to comfort himself before kicking off. the sky above him was red, and his bike reflected the same color on its surface. It didn't take long for him to admit to himself that he was going to end up killing someone if he kept thinking while he was driving, and he took a short detour, parking in front of the Domino City Park. His phone jangled: _**Got plans tonight?**_ It asked him.

_Sorry, I don't feel like going out tonight,_ he texted back.

_**Feeling Shitty?**_  
_  
A little._ He wasn't sure how else to respond, and he wanted to hint at needing the space without completely rejecting Yami; he may have wanted to see him later.

_**Fine. Text me before you kill yourself. **_Mokuba chuckled at that one, his phone slipping into his pocket before he stretched and climbed off of LaShonda. The park still had a few families playing around in it, surprisingly, and there were many more who were packing up or were in the process of leaving already. There were several trails that had been trodden down on, and Mokuba just kept walking; he didn't care which way he went because he knew the park well. His phone jangled again, and when he flipped it open, the message waiting said: _**Bad day at work? **_Mokuba wasn't sure how to answer that, and so he didn't and put the phone back in his pocket instead.

It was going to be dark soon. Continuing to walk a few more steps, he saw a silhouette ahead, a girl with long hair by the looks of it. It looked like she was painting. A few people passed by, and Mokuba moved past them towards the girl, who he could see now had long blond hair. She turned when she heard him approach, and he bowed respectfully. "Excuse me," he proposed, making eye contact, "could I watch?"

She smiled, oval glasses glinting in what was left of the light outside. "Of course you can. It's almost done." She had a clear accent-she was gaijin.

"What is it?" he asked, excitedly switching to speak in English before he even bothered to look-but he knew what it was the moment he saw it. Yami? No; it was a portrait of _Yuugi_, of all people-the differences between them were there. He gasped without meaning to.

"You're American?" she asked, changing to her native language as well. He shook his head. "Oh, well. Your English is really good. It's not a breathtaking piece of art," she said, and Mokuba took a step back as he noticed the color palette in her hand. "But I've been thinking a lot about this person lately. You have to admit-as a subject he at least has an interesting hairstyle."

Mokuba wasn't sure whether or not he should have said anything about knowing who this was, lest he embarrass her. "It-it's nicely done. Whoever it is, he's lucky to have such a talented girl paint him."

"It's still not done," she said, her voice carrying a happy hum. She seemed to be oblivious to his surprise. "There are some details that I want to add, but there won't be enough light. I'll have to come back tomorrow."

"You can't finish it at home?" he asked. This certainly was a strange girl. What if she was stalking him?-Mokuba didn't remember seeing her at the club the other day, and Yuugi hadn't mentioned an American girl at all.

She shook her head, dabbing at Yuugi's eyes with a shade of lavender-it was a complimentary shade for highlighting. He watched the glob of paint swirl on the brush, the canvas... "I can only paint in the park. It's weird-I feel calm here, though, so I guess it's alright." Shaking her head again, she added. "I'm not going to finish." She looked up at the sky, and suddenly she turned around. "I'm going to get ready to go, I guess. I'm sorry you came all the way over here and didn't see much."

Mokuba waved it off in a decidedly eastern way. "No, I'm sorry I bothered you. I shouldn't have. It was rude of me."

"Don't be silly," she said, and she crouched down to grab a cloth sitting atop a backpack, using it to clear the surface of her palette before slipping it into her bag. "I'm the one being strange."

"Are you going to be back tomorrow?" he asked. His phone chimed again, and he felt the vibration this time against his leg. _**Fuck off, Mokuba**_, it said. He slipped it into his pocket and didn't think about it twice.

* * *

Rather than try to make it seem as though they're not getting along, this snippet is supposed to do the opposite-show how comfortable they are with each other. On the other hand, there are some obvious questions here: who is this woman? How will she be (or is she) connected with the characters introduced thus far? Stay tuned...

This was prompt #12.


	12. Sluts

He had no idea what was going on.

It was Friday, the last of the week, and because it was morning he'd volunteered to let Yuugi sleep in before the afternoon rush. He didn't have anything to do really, and he wasn't in the mood to engage in the usual self-destruction: bars and the like. Today, he was reading a book, being constructive. Perhaps he would write something later.

The began with something small, building up to the book: A newspaper, where he read that Domino High's Academic Games Club placed first in the district competition; he saw an advertisement for Honda's family's auto repair shop; and an article about a job fair coming up in the following week. On the downside, there was a column alerting readers to a pervert grabbing girls on the other side of town and a coffee shop not too far from the house that was closing down. He glanced at the horoscope, an dhe should have taken it seriously:

"_As there is a low and high to the tide, and thusly two sides to the moon;__  
__Ying and Yang you see both today; and each side shall forward its due."_

He wasn't sure what to think about it first. His word for the day was "Perspective". He found that a bit troubling, so he put the newspaper away and grabbed for his novel. He had tried to stay away from anything pointing to Egypt or his past, but this novel had ensnared him. Luckily, it mostly concerned Egypt in the present, so there was no need for him to worry about being reminded of unpleasant things. Egypt was quite a different place.

Somewhere around ten-thirty Marik Ishtar walked into the shop, hand tucked into the pockets of the sweatshirt that showed his midriff. It was an outfit that he used to like a lot—the hieroglyphs on his back were sexy when he didn't think about what they meant. "You still work here?" The beach blond stuck out a tongue, winking.

Yami smiled, carefully placing his bookmark between the pages of his novel before setting it to the side. "Why would I anywhere else?" he answered, moving from behind the counter to hug his old friend. The Millennium Rod was still tucked into his belt, and Yami was acutely aware of the golden object brushing against his skin as they embraced—he tried to distract himself with other thoughts. He hadn't expected to see Marik back in Domino any time soon. "On the other hand, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Ishizu's got some business to take care of, so I tagged along. Rishid is watching the home-front for us, great guy that he is." Marik rolled his eyes, and then caught Yami's in an inquisitive gaze. "How have you been holding up? I've been gone for a long time." Marik lifted his left eyebrow. "...are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Yami said, his voice flat. The two men pulled back, sizing each other up, searching for what their eyes couldn't see; how their absence had affected their friendship. Marik seemed the same: caring, casual, serious when he felt like it—and sexy, although that was a bit less important. "You?"

"Busy," Marik answered, and he smiled. "Your tomb—well, it's not yours anymore, technically—is apparently a big hit back home as well. You'd be surprised how many tourists want to know how I waste my days slaving to keep your crap from crumbling to ashes in the wind. We've gotten quite a few offers from Museums for your er—remains. But we've refused them for the most part. We get enough showing off tablets and knives, cups and ridiculous things that are essentially worthless."

Yami wasn't sure what to do with the information. "...thanks for...keeping it safe?" he answered awkwardly.

"Oh, I got a bit carried away, didn't I?" Marik's cheeks sheepishly tinged pink.

"It's fine. you can do whatever you want with those things. They're not...they haven't been mine for quite some time. As you can see, the Gods have seen fit to grace me with this vessel." He pointed to himself. That was the downside to Marik—he lived in Egypt, so _everything_ was about that country when they were together.

Marik frowned. "They're still yours, new vessel or not. I want you to come to see them at some point. You're the only person I'd let touch them with your bare hands."

Yami said nothing, but turned to walk back behind the counter, taking his seat and leaning on the glass even though he wasn't supposed to. "I'll make no promises. Got plans for today?"

But Marik wasn't so quick to accept the change of subject. "Yami, I do want you to go see them."

"Marik, I don't even have the money to—"

"You know that I'd treat you. You're _The Pharaoh_. Who wouldn't?"

"I _was_ the Pharaoh. I'm not anymore."

"Oh god, Yami, don't tell me you've gone back to this!" Marik exclaimed, approaching the counter. Yami shot him a warning glance not to broach the subject, and the beach blond sighed. "Yami, you're exceptional the way you are. Don't fret about those things."

Yami scoffed. "I bet Egypt is treating you nicely, then; you're such an optimist now."

"I've always been an optimist when it comes to you."

"Subject change," Yami demanded. "Now." He glanced at his book, still in the mood to read.

"Fine, you old coot," Marik digressed. "I need you to tell me what you were doing in _Writhe_. I didn't think you still went there."

"I go to all the old hangouts. The ones still open, anyway. Yuugi and the others were there, too, but you didn't stay long enough to see them."

"I'll make sure to crash next time you all do something." The lavender-eyed man was leaning on the glass as well, but Yami didn't stop him. "And? You said you found a boyfriend?" Marik wriggled his eyebrows up and down.

"That's not what I said at all." Yami had the newspaper out now, working the Sudoku puzzle on the back page. "I said that I was seeing someone." Yami glanced up for a moment. "Mokuba."

Marik's eyes widened, and his mouth flapped open without words for a second or two before guessing, "Kaiba?"

"Yes," Yami said, feeling better now that he'd caused such shock. "Kaiba Mokuba."

There was a pause, and Marik asked the question Yami had known was coming. "How _old_ is he?"

"Never asked him, actually. He's old enough." Marik's response was an expression filled with doubt. "Really, he is. I'm not going to do anything illegal, Marik. I can't afford to get myself arrested, you know that. Yuugi would have a heart attack and Gramps would have a stroke."

"Still smoke?"

"Yep."

"Yuck. Disgusting."

"Never stopped you before."

"I hate the smell. And the taste. Does Moku complain?"

"You scared the shit out of him, by the way. And no—he smokes too."

"Ew. You should date someone more constructive to your character."

"We're not dating."

"Seeing, dating, sexing—it's all the same thing. You have a partner. Deal with it." Marik laughed. "You're always so touchy about words, Yami."

"I'd prefer if you didn't use the wrong ones, yes." The blond spoke firmly, meaning what he said.

"...I scared him? Why?"

"No clue. I saw it, though—didn't need the puzzle to see it."

"Hm..." Marik seemed to think for a moment, and then he shook his head. "So! Do you feel like going out to dinner with me tonight?"

"Not sure," Yami answered, taking out his phone and beginning to send Mokuba a text message.

"Permission?" Marik asked.

"Nope. Just checking to see if he's going to be at work late or something. If he really wants to meet up I'll have to turn you down."

"The little squirt outranks me?" Marik feigned being flabbergasted, his arm stretching dramatically to cover his forehead."

"You'll be fine. I can do it tomorrow if not today."

"I'm good with that. You can invite him, if you want."

"I don't think so."

"Psh. You just want all of this sexy Egyptian to yourself." Marik gestured to his own body, and Yami chuckled at him, not responding.

The former Pharaoh didn't get an immediate reply from Mokuba, so he spoke with Marik as he waited. The two of them spoke almost until noon, Yami avoiding subjects that he didn't care to speak of, which seemed to be all of the ones that Marik found interesting. Yami let him prattle on for a while about the responses of museums to his family's artifacts, and the partial blond was actually quite impressed by the interest level that his old things seemed to inspire in tourists. Marik asked about the novel that he was reading and was surprisingly familiar with it; he teased Yami about reading Egyptian-related literature and yet not wanting to speak of the land he was born onto. Yami chose to ignore the contradiction the way that he'd always had. It was almost half past noon before he'd gotten a response from Mokuba, stating that he wanted to go out to the movies. "We'll have to do it tomorrow," Yami said, and Marik nodded in agreement.

"Tomorrow at eight?"

Yami scoffed. "That sounds mysteriously like an after school special. We're not dating, you know. We can leave as soon as I get off work unless you're busy. No need to wait."

"This is most definitely a date," Marik said. "I'm not hiding anything. Where do you want to go?"

"Well, movies are out, because I'm doing that tonight," Yami answered casually.

"What restaurant do you want to go to?"

"You know I hate formal dinners, Marik."

"I love them. And we haven't gone out in a long time."

"With good reason; I can't stand you." Yami resisted the urge to light up right there and then; it was as though his speaking of being annoyed made him feel even more so.

"But you love me, and that's what counts." Yami grunted in response to that assumption, but didn't confirm or deny it. Marik could think whatever he wanted. "Alright, so no dinner. What do you want to do, then? Do you just hang out in clubs all the time?"

"Pretty much."

"That's no way to spend your life..."

"You've no right to tell me how to spend my existence." Marik was drudging up old feelings, and Yami wasn't about to let him get away with that shit.

"Yami..." He called.

"What?" The door jingled, and Yami looked up from his puzzle.

He had no idea what was going on. It was Friday, the last of the week, and because it was morning he'd volunteered to let Yuugi sleep in before the afternoon rush. He didn't have anything to do really, and he wasn't in the mood to engage in the usual self-destruction: bars and the like. Today, he was reading a book, being constructive. Perhaps he would write something later. Marik, annoying as he was, had dropped by for a visit. What he hadn't expected, however, was for Seto Kaiba to enter the Kame Game Shop.

The room fell quiet, and it seemed that even Seto understood the gravity of his entrance, blazing coat-tails aside. Marik retreated behind the counter beside Yami, and amethyst eyes settled on the taller man. He wanted to do what they usually did—appraised each other for five minutes or so in silence until Kaiba called out some sort of challenge—but this was not that sort of setting. He was in a store, _Yami's store_, and as irritating as it was, Kaiba was a customer. "Welcome," Yami said, deep voice crooning the greeting in a voice dripping with seductive venom, "to the Kame Game Shop. How may I help you?" Marik looked at him as though he were crazy.

But Seto accepted the greeting, nodding as he stepped further into the quaint shop. "Hello, Yami."

Yami bowed his head slightly to acknowledge the man who was stepping up to the counter, waiting for him to explain the circumstances of his arrival or what it was that he was after and how Yami was getting his way. He even would have settled for the elder Kaiba to start bitching about Mokuba; but the silence was excruciating, particularly because under normal circumstances there would never be a silence moment between them. Yami didn't like being reminded that he was living under less-than-normal circumstances. "May I help you?" he asked, trying to help this process along so that the brunette could just get the hell out of his store. Where the fuck was Yuugi? He was late, anyway.

"I want to talk to you, if that isn't already obvious," Seto said, crossing his arms. He stared for a little while longer, eyes gazing at Yami; the tri hair-colored man had gone back to working his puzzle in the meantime.

"Well, I'm here," Yami said, trying not to sound too rude. "Begin when you're ready." The words felt familiar to his tongue. He was sure that he'd said that to someone that he'd dueled, a long time ago. The issue with remembering things like that was that he could never tell if he was remembering it from this existence or the last. It was all so confusing, and that was part of the reason why he didn't want people like Marik floating around and reminding him of things that would be impossible for him to put together in some sort of coherent story. He managed to complete a square while he was thinking, and he was running over the other intersecting columns and rows to make sure that all of the numbers fit in line with the puzzle. Marik was oddly silent, something that Yami was sure would come back to bite him in the ass later—Marik was never quiet or appropriate without a price. Of course, it could be that the Kaiba before them scared him, but he doubted that, considering what had happened between them before. _It's odd, actually_, Yami thought, _that Seto hasn't said anything about him.__  
_  
"I wanted to..." For once, the CEO seemed at a loss for words. He shifted his foot a good inch or two, and Yami was sure that the physical gesture was a sign of nervousness.

The ex-Pharaoh sighed; he knew what Kaiba was there for. "Look, it's obvious why you're here, so why don't we make this easy?" He put the puzzle down and off to the side on the counter. "You're here to deliver the big brother speech, right? The one that tells me that you're going to wipe the floor with me if I break your brother's heart, or if I hurt his feelings, or whatever. I get it. You care about your brother even if you don't really know what to do with him. That's all you and him—you both have to work that out. But I'm going to make your job easier by telling you that you don't have to worry about him. Mokuba is a man, he does what he wants and makes his own decisions." He had spoken frankly, without slang or any misleading statements or inferences; he was speaking honestly, because Yami knew that doing so was the fastest way to get Seto Kaiba _out _of his shop. He leaned his elbows on the counter, inspected some non-existent dust on his hands. "Even so, we're not involved to the point where my decisions affect his feelings. He's him; I'm me. There's nothing at risk here, regardless of if you feel that you're unfamiliar with his lifestyle or whatever you people are calling it these days. Now, if that was all that you were worried about, it's settled. I take you seriously, and you don't have to worry."

More than anything else, Kaiba seemed to be taken aback by the fact that he'd been cut off and not allowed to form his thoughts and present them. He was going to have to get used to that; he wasn't at KaibaCorp, and Yami wasn't there to kiss his ass. However, he was trying to be nice considering that Kaiba seemed to not mean any harm, and none of the animosity that had been present from when Yami had encountered him before, in front of Mokuba's house. He also remembered what his lover had told him in the club about feeling vexed—Yami didn't really care about the relationship that Mokuba had with his brother, but he wasn't going to be the cause of it breaking down, if anything. He'd lived too many years of seeing people make stupid decisions when it came to their loved ones; he didn't want to be involved with anymore debacles of that sort. When Seto Kaiba opened his mouth to speak again, it was with the air of conviction and certainty that he usually had. "So we have an understanding, then?"

But Yami wasn't going to let him get away with that. "No. Mokuba and I have an understanding. I'm just nice enough to take your feelings into account. _We _have nothing as far as that's concerned." He grabbed the newspaper again and the pencil beside it and began to work again.

Kaiba stepped closer to the counter top, and Yami could imagine his pose as he asked haughtily, "And what exactly _is_ that understanding, then? Since you seemed to be so forthcoming about your feelings on everything else."

Marik snickered for the first time from his place at the counter. "What kind of question is that?" Yami glared at him and he fell silent.

"It's an understanding that you don't need to know the details of."

"I think I do, if it involves you distracting him from work and standing me up for dinner."

"Ooh, miss your boyfriend, do you?" Yami teased. "Look, any decisions that Mokuba makes are his own. It's not like I whisper in his ear for him to be a dick to you. You need to take time to figure out whatever issues you two have on your own instead of throwing that shit on me. I'm not going to take it."

"Well, considering that he's standing me up and canceling on me to date _you_—"

"Oh no," Yami said, shaking his head. "I don't do dates. So if he's standing you up, it's definitely got nothing to do with me. I'm not his boyfriend."

That revelation, if Kaiba's face was anything to go by, hit pretty hard. "So what exactly are you doing?"

"What does it look like they're doing?" Marik interjected. He earned another glare from Yami.

"Like I said," the partial blond answered, "our understanding is ours. If you want to know about it, go ask him. I'm not going to sit here and let you badger me over some details that you should be asking your brother for."

"As the person involved with my brother, I think I have the right ask either of you."

"He does have a point there," Marik said. "After all, you are kind of banging his brother. You do owe him something of an explanation." It was quite obvious that Marik was enjoying his own commentary, and Yami contemplated for a moment whether or not he needed to punch his friend in the throat.

Seto seemed to be waiting for that explanation since Marik had supported him on that point, and Yami said briefly. "Mokuba and I aren't in a formal relationship. That's it. It's not complicated. What _is _complicated though, is you barging in here waiving your KaibaCorp cock around, thinking that everyone has to answer your questions for you. I respect you and all—I don't hate you or hold a grudge or anything like that, but I'm not Yuugi. I'm not going to lay down and take your shit. You and Mokuba have enough of your own issues without you trying to take them out on me."

Seto's eyes narrowed. "Our affairs are none of your concern."

"To spice up your logic, the hell it is," Yami said. "Especially when I have to listen and coddle him so that he doesn't have to feel like a piece of shit every time he thinks of you. It's hard work, being an emotional support for someone, Kaiba. You should try it sometime, and then see if you let someone tell you it has nothing to do with you. I never made my time with Mokuba your business. You wouldn't have even known about it if you weren't so possessive."

"He talks to you about me?"

"What else does he have going for him here besides you?" Yami countered. He wanted to add that Mokuba hated working for KaibaCorp, but even he thought that was a little too strong. It seemed as though Kaiba was showing at least a small bit of concern for Momkuba's opinions and actions; maybe he wasn't totally unsalvageable after all. So he added instead, "All of his friends are in the U.S."

Seto's voice was genuinely curious. "Have you spoken to any of them?"

"This isn't a forum," Yami said. "I'm only being nice. I'm not your one stop shop for info about Mokuba. You're his brother—you should know more of this shit than I do." He had to give Kaiba credit, though; he seemed to be absorbing all of the information that he was being given, as well as the lack thereof and what it meant. Kaiba seemed to be mulling things over in his head, and Yami really wanted to get back to his sudoku puzzle. More than anything, however, he wanted Kaiba to no longer be in the shop.

"Yami?" He heard the voice tentatively call him on the stairs. Yuugi. Lovely. He was relieved.

'Yes?" he answered, and he swore that it was the most loving answer he'd ever given.

"Customer?" Yuugi now revealed himself from the staircase, his eyes immediately scanning the room upon entry. The shock that displayed on his face from Seto Kaiba's presence was hilarious, but Yami didn't have the heart to laugh at the moment. Marik waved, saying hello, and Kaiba gave some sort of acknowledging grunt, his body tensing—it was obvious that he was uncomfortable with them both being in the same room together at the same time. Yami recalled Kaiba being the same way after they had separated. The CEO didn't like being reminded that the Millennium Magic had been real, because he'd been wrong about it. "Oh," Yuugi added after seeing the taller man. He smiled anyway, though, and asked, "were you able to help him?"

"He's not buying," Marik said. "He's asking questions about Mokuba."

Yuugi pouted. "Shame on you, Kaiba. If you have any questions about Mokuba, you should ask him. Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"I doubt that," Marik pointed out. "I'm sure Yami would be livid if something had happened to him."

Yami didn't answer that accusation, because it wouldn't benefit him either way; if he agreed, he was admitting to caring about Mokuba more than he wanted them to know, and if he denied it he seemed like a colder bastard than he was actually being. Lose-lose. Instead, Yami said to Yuugi, "You're taking over?"

"Yep," Yuugi smiled. "Marik, how long are you going to be in town? I didn't know that you were going to be in town. Yami told me he saw you, but..."

"I'm with Izhizu while she runs some errands in town," Marik said, "so I'm here as long as she's here."

It seemed as though some thought clicked in Kaiba's head, because he asked suddenly, "Are you saying that you're just sleeping with my brother?"

Yami's laugh was something that he couldn't help this time. Yuugi's lips contorted into an 'o' shape, clearly caught off guard by the question. He was actually unsure of how to answer. "Er—I suppose so? That's...quite a way to phrase a question, Kaiba."

"Are you involved with my Mokuba? Are you two in a relationship? Dating? Going out?" Kaiba was tapping his foot on the floor now, and he seemed to be becoming annoyed. "You're avoiding the question."

"Well," Yami said, moving himself from behind the counter and taking his books and things with him, "Those are all separate questions rather than one. Are we involved? Yes. In a relationship? Not in the traditional sense, no. We're not dating, although we do go out sometimes. Seems like I'm splitting hairs, doesn't it? I assure you I'm not."

Marik smiled. "Are you going upstairs? Can I come? I haven't seen your room in forever! I bet it looks exactly the same."

"It does," Yami grinned to the beach blond.

Yuugi could see the trouble brewing on Kaiba's face, and he said, "Seto, whatever relationship Mokuba's in with Yami, it's not traditional at all. It's not conventional; you spending time trying to analyze it is really just going to frustrate you more. Since Yami's being a bit uncooperative on the details, perhaps that means that they've got a bit more respect for each other's privacy than you're giving them credit for. You should go and ask Mokuba about. He is your brother, after all." Kaiba looked at Yuugi like he wanted to hit him. Yami felt the animosity and paused, on the stairs, turning back—he was ready to make a dive for the counter if necessary. Nice he may have been, but he wouldn't mind looking for an excuse to pound the shit out of Kaiba's face. "Listen, Kaiba; if you'd like to have a seat and talk to me some more about it, I wouldn't mind listening. I know that these things take getting used to over time, and I like Mokuba, so I wouldn't mind..."

Kaiba shook his head. "I've heard everything that I've needed to hear."

"Seto," Yuugi said, his voice taking that scolding tone, "I don't think you have. Jumping to conclusions will only make things worse. Isn't that what it's been doing so far?" Yami found himself agreeing to Yuugi's advice, even though the hikari didn't know as much about the situation as it seemed he did. Yami was still poised on the steps behind the counter, waiting for Kaiba to move, and he only relaxed and resumed his trip upstairs when the older Kaiba turned on his heel, heading toward the door.

* * *

_The Yacoubian Building_ is a real novel by Alaa Al Aswany. I encourage you all to look it up and read it.

As far as the prompt for this, it's in the undertone rather than being expressed externally. I liked Yuugi in this, and I hope that there are more chapters with Yuugi in it later.

I would like to note, however, that I lost the second half of this installment quite some time ago. I was so devastated that I worked on other prompts—maybe about four or five, even—before I came back to this one for a second time to try to fix it. Sorry about the slow updates.

This was prompt #41.


	13. Leather

"Did you want people to know about it?" Yuugi was asking. "It's been more than a month already, but I didn't know if you were keeping it secret from certain people."

"Like who?"

"Anyone," he shrugged. Then Yuugi changed the subject. "You're not going to drink a lot, are you?"

"Don't know."

"You shouldn't."

"Should I take Gramps's car?" Yami asked. "Are you going to leave me or forget about me again?"

"That was an accident last time!"

"Sure it was." Yuugi pouted, straightening his shirt and staring at himself in the mirror. "Yuugi, we're just hanging out with the gang. Stop fussing over yourself like a girl."

"I'm not being a girl. I just don't want to look like crap."

"Like anyone's going to care."

"Yami, go suck it. You're wearing leather anyway, for like the millionth time."

"It's my usual get-up. It's never failed to impress before."

"That's because it leaves nothing to the imagination. I can see the outline of your cock from twenty feet away." Yuugi laughed.

"No you can't!" Yami glanced in the mirror once, just to make sure.

"Made you look." Yami's glare was enough to convey his feelings. "Besides, Yami, there's nothing wrong with feeling good about yourself."

"Whatever, can we go now?"

* * *

I liked Yuugi's testiness here; it's a foreshadowing to the side of Yuugi that will appear in some of the upcoming installments.

This was prompt #8.


	14. Ring

Otogi had flown back in town for a visit and he'd offered up his hotel room for everyone to stay in on one condition—they had to play either spin the bottle or truth-or-dare. Apparently, he'd had fun doing it a friend's house in California and he wanted to enjoy it with them. None of their group had ever played it before, and while Yami was slightly apprehensive of the prospect of being obligated to answer a possibly invading question honestly, he was excited about participating. Everyone had been invited, and Yami had asked for permission for Marik to go—they were going to pick him up. Yuugi already knew about him showing up at _Writhe_, and the little one couldn't wait to see their old friend.

Marik and Ishizu themselves were staying in a hotel, and when Yami had seen it for the first time, he thought about how glittery and uppity Marik had become. The Hotel's name was _"La Rue D'Argent". _The beach blond was waiting out front, an so there was no going inside, but Yami could clearly see the valet and the bellboys running around with luggage and other things. Yami hadn't even known this place existed in the city, let alone having gone there. "Hey guys," Marik had said, opening the door on the passenger side to kiss Yami on the cheek before closing it and hopping into the back of Yuugi's Toyota. Yuugi shot him an inquisitive glance glance and Yami shrugged, pretending that he didn't feel the pink spreading onto his cheeks.

Otogi's hotel was rather normal, thank goodness, so Yami didn't feel like a pauper stepping into it. The green-eyed host was downstairs waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived. "You guys are the earliest?" He laughed. "Wow. You guys are just on time. I don't think that anyone else will be." He checked silver wrist-watch for the time. "It's just nine. How's work been lately?" he asked. "Hey, Marik," he added.

"We closed early," Yami answered. "Since it's Sunday."

"You guys are open on Sundays?" Marik asked.

"It's an odd time," Yuugi said, "but it works. A lot of regulars are in on Sundays because they're busy the rest of the week, and some of the students, too. We're thinking about doing trades every other Sunday, or special sales. We need the extra money and we seem to have the fan base."

Otogi nodded. "My store's thinking about it as well. Haven't made up my mind if I want to or not. I don't have very many people I trust to take over while I'm gone. Do you guys want to go up to the room early and wait? You don't have to stand down here with me."

"I'm good," Yami said.

And so they waited. A concierge asked if they needed help once while they were doing so, and the group declined. Otogi asked Yuugi about classes, to which his other half replied that things were hectic but good, and that he felt a bit apprehensive about getting a "real job" in a year or so to get experience in his field. What was his major? Classics, he said, with a minor in Anthropology. Yami had heard that before, but Otogi made it sound like a big deal. Marik was pretty quiet, occasionally walking off to explore the lobby of the hotel.

Mokuba showed up next, maybe ten minutes later, dressed in a simple T-shirt and lighter jeans than usual; his hair was pressed out but smoothed back into a ponytail that still reached down his back. He was without the concealing leather jacket, toying with the ever-present loose strand of hair hanging on the left side of his face. Otogi explained that people were running late, as per usual, and a few calls were made.

"What kind of snacks you got?" Mokuba asked. "I'm hungry."

"Didn't eat after work?" Yami asked, trying to seem casual.

"No, I took a nap instead. It was exhausted."

"Hello Mokuba," Marik said, trying to sound a bit more easygoing than usual.

The brunette bristled a bit—Yami could see. "Hello," he managed to say politely.

"How are you?"

"Fine," Mokuba said, his fingers winding in his hair a bit more quickly, pulling a bit more tightly.

Yuugi's cellphone rung, and when he answered, Jounouchi burst through the doors of the hotel, a familiar face in tow. "Sorry I'm late Yuug'. Ended up pickin' up an extra package to make this game thing more interestin'." He gestured behind him, and the woman with him stepped forward. "Long time no see," the sultry voice greeted.

"Mai? Valentine?" Mokuba asked, and Yami noticed that his eyes flashed to her chest for a nanosecond. He was smiling.

Yuugi laughed next to him when it was apparent that she didn't recognize him. "And who are you, stranger?" she said coyly but politely.

Jounouchi laughed, too, and Mokuba said, "You don't remember me? Have I changed that much?"

Mai seemed to be thinking very hard, a hand on her chin, and she replied, "I'm really sorry, but I don't..."

"Hey guys!" Honda burst in behind them, jumping onto Otogi's back from behind and ruffling his hair.

"That's Mokuba, babe," Jou chimed in. Yami saw her eyes brighten with the revelation as everyone else took the time to greet each other. "Marik, is that you?" Jounouchi asked cheekily. "...what is _he _doing here?"

"He's in town at the moment," Yuugi said, although that much was obvious. "We invited him."

"I'm not after your souls, I promise," he said smiling. "Really. That's it. I'm just here to have fun with the rest of you."

Yami patted him on the back. "See? This kitten's harmless. Now where's Anzu?"

Otogi shook his head, talking over the babble of small conversations that were rising between their group. "That's everyone; Anzu's upstairs already—she's setting up food and stuff."

The room was nice and spacious—the suite located on the 40th floor. It was more expensive looking than the lobby let on, and there were several roll-away beds scattered throughout. "I tried to get enough beds for you all, but some of you might have to share."

"That's fine with me," Marik said. "I wonder who I'll get." Yami didn't have a large enough bucket for all of the sweatdrops in the room.

On the work desk in the corner were seven—no, eight—boxes of pizza, and Anzu had some drinks set out as well. "On the house?" Mokuba asked. Everyone else was settling down in the room, Jou taking a chair, and everyone else settling on spaces on the floor or the vacant beds.

"On the house," Otogi confirmed, and Mokuba made his way to the pizza, hugging Anzu and taking a few slices. "I got plates and cups and ice, too."

"Sweet," Jou acknowledged.

Anzu seemed excited, greeting Yami as he took his place on the floor, hugging him. They exchanged hellos before she asked, "So, did you guys decide which game you wanted to play?"

"Both," Mokuba said, chewing through cheese and meat. "Back in New York—" he swallowed. "—in New York, we combined the two. You spun a bottle and had to ask the person that it landed on truth or dare. If they choose date, the person who spun the bottle can kiss the person themselves or redirect it to someone else. If they chose truth and can't answer within ten seconds, then the person who spun has to dare them to do something—anything. There are some others rules I can suggest, too."

"What games are there?" Marik seemed rather clueless.

"Truth or dare," Yami said, "and Spin the bottle."

"Oh..."

"I like Mokuba's idea," Yuugi said. "It's a nice combo."

"Yeah," Jounouchi said. "I don't want to kiss Honda, though. Bleh."

"I'll have you know the ladies love these lips!" Honda shouted back.

"Children," Mai huffed. "I'm in, though."

"Can't wait," Anzu said. "Alright, grab your food before we start."

"Rules," Yuugi said. "No good without rules."

Mokuba stood in the corner where the food was, and Yami felt like he was avoiding Marik by standing there. "No exceptions. You _have _to do the dare or answer the question. We're all friends here, so we shouldn't be dicks to each other."

"No illegal dares," Jou said.

Honda was bristling a bit. "...do I _have _to kiss guys?" Yami rolled his eyes.

Everyone looked to Otogi, who hadn't said a word since the beginning. "Um," he said. "...I want to say yes, but...Honda, man, if you're really that uncomfortable—"

"I just don't do it. I don't want to."

"Then don't," Mokuba snapped. "I'll re-direct to Mai or Anzu. We do outnumber the girls here. The likelihood is high. Or you can choose a truth. That's why I like the game. You have options."

"We don't have to play if you don't want to, Honda," Yuugi said.

"...we could get more girls, you know," Otogi said. "Jou, what's your sister doing?"

"...you're shitting me, right?"

"Not really. Is she busy?"

Jou grumbled. "...I guess I could call her." But his eyes were on Honda, thinking.

Yuugi seemed thoughtful as well. "..."

Yami glanced over in his direction. "Got someone to call, Yuugi?"

"...maybe."

"I'll call Miho," Anzu said. "She might be free."

"You still talk to her?" Jou asked. Anzu nodded.

"I'm afraid most of my friends are guys," Mai added to the conversation. "I don't think I can help you there." Jounouchi shot her a glare, but she ignored it.

"Even with Miho," Mokuba added, seating himself next to Yami, "you're still outnumbered 2 to 1. Are you alright with that?"

"More for me," Mai replied with a smile. Anzu nodded, already on her phone.

"I'll throw on a movie while we wait," Otogi said. He chose a television show instead, the episodes running back to back.

Yami was rather torn, with Marik on one side and Mokuba on the other. It would have been much easier if they liked each other. Making his decision, Yami subtly brushed his hand against Mokuba's; the brunette didn't move, but the smile on his face was enough for Yami to know he appreciated it.

Jounouchi and Honda were drinking with Yuugi, and even Anzu shared a wine cooler with Otogi. Mai stuck to the pop and Marik and Mokuba together probably finished half of the pizza by the time Miho arrived. She was dressed in a cute lavender sweater, and she received a very warm welcome. There was the issue of Yuugi and Yami to explain, as she at first thought that they were twins, but when Otogi began to tell a short version of the story that would not only explain who Yami was but also introduce himself as well as Mai, Marik and Mokuba; in the end, she was very confused about the Millennium Items and they ended up just letting her believe that they were twins. It was just more simple that way. She seemed a little uneasy playing with some strangers, but she did like the idea of modified rules.

Yami couldn't wait to start. Miho had already eaten, so it wasn't long after they'd gotten settled in that the game began; Otogi produced a die that they used to roll for who went first: The result: Marik and Jounouchi were tied for first—they both rolled sixes. Yami himself had ended up with paltry three. The two of them rolled, and Marik came out the winner with a five to Jou's own three.

"Wait—" Mokuba asked. "—how many rounds of this are we going to do. When are we going to stop?"

"Three," Yami said. "It's a well-rounded number. We've got ten people, right? That's a long round unless everyone asks questions." He smiled wickedly. "I want to know all your secrets..." he began to laugh in a way that he knew would be perceived as creepy.

"Hush, Yami," Yuugi said. "I think three is a good idea, though."

And so the game began.

* * *

So, yeah, about this...It's technically part one of two, because I didn't want it to be so long. It's connected to the last one, as well, but this and the next one together are going to be a whole story. I'm actually using a random number generator to decide who lands on who in this game. I think I'm a little too invested in this...

This was prompt #5.


	15. Writer's Choice

And so the game began.

Marik was the first to spin the glass bottle that Otogi had brought in—"and cleaned," he added proudly. The circle of people looked a bit nervous from Yami's point of view, but he didn't quite understand why. He'd seen people make worse decisions than to play a harmless game where they might end up kissing one another briefly; they could be playing for their souls, he mused, or making out with people they didn't know at all or be too drunk to be able what they'd done the day after.

In any case, Marik landed on Otogi and asked in his usual casual tones, "Truth or Dare."

"Kiss is more like it," Honda grumbled, and Mai shushed him.

Otogi seemed to think for a moment. "As much as I'm sure the ladies love you, Marik, I think I'm going to have to go for truth."

The beach blond smiled. "I figured. Uuh...I hadn't thought of a question, though." Otogi laughed, and so did Marik, for a second. "Okay okay—er—something simple, I guess? Why do you like dice so much?"

Otogi could only laugh harder. "What?"

Marik blushed, and Yami himself—and apparently, a few of the others, including Jounouchi as the loudest—couldn't help but laugh as well. "Well, you have the earring and you always carry them with you and...stuff...I was just coming up with a question!"

The green-eyed man was still chuckling. "Well, you know I developed Dungeon Dice Monsters, right?"

More laughter. "Seriously, though," Marik prodded. "Why the dice? Is it a fetish or something?"

"I worked on the game, as you know," he said, "But I also...just have always had luck with dice. I was good at games of chance. I was bred by my father when he saw I had the talent for it..." Marik seemed to want to know more, but Otogi added, "That's it. Who's next?"

Yami's turn was next, sitting on Marik's right side, and when he spun the bottle it ended up on Jounouchi. Yami smiled wickedly again and Jounouchi seemed a bit nervous. "Truth or Dare?" he asked.

"Uhh," he said. "I...er—Truth."

"Alright, then," Yami said, knowing just what to ask, "Have you ever paid for sex, Jounouchi?"

The blond paled, and then glared. "Yes," he said. "And you're really a jerk for bringing that up, Yami."

"It's just a question," Yami shrugged, smile still in place. "I didn't ask you to describe it."

"You _what_?" Anzu and Honda asked both at the same time with two totally separate intonations. Honda added to his question, "Great job!" The look on Mai's face as just as curious, though she didn't say anything and instead made a funny face.

"It was a yes or no question," Jounouchi said. "I answered it."

"Fair enough," Mokuba said, grabbing the bottle from in front of Yami, "My turn..." When he spun the bottle, it went around close to ten times. It was rather entrancing, watching the bottle and the lights from the room that were bouncing awkwardly off of the surface—he hadn't noticed that, in the end it had landed on him.

Excitedly Yuugi urged, "You should kiss him!" And everyone, including Mokuba, turned to stare at him with an incredulous look.

"Wow, Yuugi," Otogi said. "...that's...uh, quite a challenge."

"As you wish, Yuugi," Yami said mischievously. "Dare." His eyes narrowed as they caught Mokuba in their sights.

"...are ya gonna do it?" Honda asked, on the edge as though this was a soap opera of some sort.

Mokuba laughed, shaking his head. "No, I'm not. I'm re-directing. To Otogi." Yami hadn't expected that of all things, but he supposed that it would do. Glancing at Otogi, he couldn't help but snicker; But the green-eyed man seemed okay with it. He shrugged, shuffling over on his knees. It was over in just a second, amidst oohs and aahs that didn't deserve to exist for the action. It was a petty kiss, something that he'd give Yuugi before leaving or something like that. He didn't understand what the big deal was. Mokuba himself laughed as well. "That wasn't hot at all."

"It was only two seconds," Yuugi pouted.

"Good enough for me," Honda muttered.

Miho giggled. "Maybe there should be rules for how long someone can kiss another person?"

"Don't do that," Yuugi replied. "Honda's already sweating bullets waiting for his turn." Honda frowned, hugging himself and shaking his head.

"Mine," Yuugi said, reaching near Yami to grab the bottle. When he spun, it only went around about four or five times, and it landed on Honda.

"Truth," he said. "I don't trust you. You've been instigating since we got here."

Yuugi laughed. "Alright, then. Should I ask about something you don't want people to know?"

"Come on," Jou said. "Don't be like Yami." He laughed, and everyone seemed to be reminded of his question for a quick moment before turning back to Honda.

"You're so...impossibly normal, though, Honda," Yuugi said. "There are no secrets or interesting things. I have no idea what to ask you."

"Just ask something lame," Honda suggested. "Like my favorite color or TV show."

"But that seems like such a waste."

"I didn't know that Honda was normal," Miho said, glancing in his direction.

He blushed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Clearly," Otogi said, "she thought you were special."

Now it was Miho's turn to blush. "That—that's not what I meant at all!"

"That's what you said," Otogi refuted, surveying the room. "You think he's _speeeeeecial_."

Yuugi smiled. "Alright, then, Honda—how do you feel about Miho?" Honda's whole face seemed to be burning red. "Don't forget. You can't lie."

"You cheeky little devil," Yami said, trying to hold in his mirth.

"While you answer that," Yuugi said, "I'm going to get something to drink. Excuse me if I get a little drunk, but I don't have to open the store tomorrow, right, _Yami_?"

Yami was quite startled, and Anzu took the time to ask if Yuugi even drank alcohol, which he answered with a yes. "...Alright, then. I'll take over Gramps's shift at noon, I guess."

"Time," Otogi called. "Honda, you didn't answer the question. Yuugi, you got a dare?"

"Nah," Yuugi said. "I'm fine if he just answers the question."

All eyes went to Honda. "...alright...Um, well, I like Miho. She's cute." He exhaled loudly, indicating that he was done speaking. Miho's ears were red, but aside from that and not meeting Honda's eyes, there wasn't much to give her away.

"Aww," Mai said. "That's adorable."

"Who's next?" Anzu said.

"Me." Otogi picked up the bottle and spun it. It landed on himself, and he laughed. "Wow. I guess even I love me." He spun again, and it landed on Yuugi. "Truth or Dare, Yuugi-boy..." Everyone laughed.

Yuugi was making his way back to his own seat, stepping over people and making sure not to accidentally kick anyone. "I was thinking Dare at first, but...do you have a question? Better yet, do you have an actually have a real dare? I'll do one..."

"I think I have a pretty fair question," Otogi answered. "It's one that I actually want an honest answer to, if that makes it better."

"Shoot."

"...so...what _is_ your sexuality?" Otogi asked, his voice level. Honda burst into laughter, Jounouchi seemed genuinely interested in the answer, Miho and Anzu blushed, turning away, and Mokuba chuckled, shifting in position so that he could watch Yuugi's face while he answered. This just made Yami snicker. These were pretty invasive questions, but it would appear that some knowledge was not common among them. This was going to be...engaging. "I mean," Otogi continued, expounding, "I've never directly asked you, but you don't really let on to doing anything explicitly, either. And a lot of people don't pay attention to what you do—you know, 'innocent little Yuugi' and all that. I just wanted to know.'

Yuugi took a sip of whatever it was he had mixed together, and he swallowed before answering. "I don't really have a gender requirement, I guess. I suppose you could say I'm a bit of a Pan, but I do mostly like girls...I mean...who wouldn't?"

A few people looked surprised. Quite a few people. "You mean," Honda said unabashedly, "you're not straight?"

Mokuba laughed, almost losing the contents of his drink in the process. "Are you fucking kidding me, Honda?" His laughter took over his speech after that, and if he'd tried to say anything it wouldn't have been intelligible anyway.

"No, Honda," Yuugi said, taking another sip. "I'm not. Not completely, anyway. I think that there's more to a relationship with a person than their gender. Actually, I think it's more than looks, too, to a certain extent. It's personality that's important to me. If I get along with someone and they understand me and are willing to tolerate me, why wouldn't I want I be a relationship with them?"

"Because..." Honda said, then clammed himself up. "Nevermind."

Yuugi held his drink in both hands. "Honda, we can talk about this if you want."

"No, no," Honda said. "Just...who's next, please?"

"Wait," Anzu said. "—what's a pan?"

Miho, of all people piped up. "It's a sexual orientation, characterized by the potential for aesthetic attraction, romantic love, or sexual desire towards people, regardless of their gender identity or biological sex." When everyone looked at her, she said sheepishly, "...I still work at the library, you guys..."

"Oh...Right." Was the general response. Yami rolled his eyes, and Mokuba sighed, sounding a bit frustrated.

"Alright then," Anzu continued. "Then—"

"Ah-ah," Yuugi cut her off with a smile. "You'll have to spin me if you want to ask any more questions." Anzu looked disappointed.

Mai's shoulders were shaking with giggles. "You're all a lot more interesting than I thought..."

Yami winked at her. "We aim to please."

Miho seemed to be a little late on the train, so to speak. "So...wait...are more of you not straight?" She was biting her lips and thinking.

"Yes," Yuugi said. "But you'll have to ask."

"Oh, really?" Otogi laughed. "Alright then, I guess this _is_ interesting."

"How could you people not know about your friends?" Mokuba asked. "How many years have I been gone that you've had time to ask about this shit?" He seemed genuinely upset.

"There are some things that don't come up, Mokuba," Marik said. "Also, it's not as though everyone's passing themselves around in this group. Most of us aren't whores." The last comment garnered some attention, and the looks on both Otogi and Jounouchi's faces indicated that they very badly wanted to know who these 'whores' were. Yami was sure that he was being included.

"I guess..."

"I hope I get Yuugi. I want to ask him," Anzu said, and she spun the bottle after realizing that it was her turn. Instead, however, it spun onto Mokuba. She blushed a little, and asked, "Truth, Dare, or Kiss?"

Mokuba paused for a moment. "Hm. Which would be more wild? Do you have a question or a dare in mind?"

"Well, I don't want to be a copy cat, but..." Anzu shook her head. "I guess—no, I got one. A question!"

"Alright, shoot. I'll take Truth for three hundred."

"How did you lose your virginity in America?"

Mokuba scoffed. "How do you know I didn't lose it here before I left?" Anzu blushed, and she was fumbling for words for a moment, unsure of how to answer. "Just kidding, Anzu," Mokuba said after a moment of letting her freak out. "Alrighty, then. Uhh—I was in college, clearly. I'd been trying to get laid for quite some time without being a douche, and that meant being a nice guy—which was getting me nowhere. So, anyway. There was this girl in my Management class when I was a sophomore—she was kind of out there, and I liked her because she was very, um...comfortable with herself, and confident. She ended up becoming my best friend, actually. I wanted to date her, but she was very honest about it not working out. Fuckbuddies at best, she said, and although my feelings were hurt at first I got used to it. She took it. It was romantic, though. She let me pretend." The brunette looked down and away. "That's it. Oh—her name is Andrea. She's really cute."

Yami wasn't sure what to think of this particular story. The women were all giggles and everyone else seemed to be at a loss of words as well. Mokuba hadn't bothered to share anything like this with him, and he hadn't been expecting him to, but it was still strange finding out about it in this way.

"Wow," Anzu said. "I...that's so...wow." She didn't say much more than that.

"That's amazing," Otogi said, and he took the bottle from Anzu and passed it to Mai.

"I don't think I can top that, hon," Mai said, but she moved down to the floor from the edge of Jounouchi's chair and spun it just the same. It landed on Honda. He opted for a Kiss—surprise, surprise—and Yami realized that the "Truth, Dare or Kiss" options were going to be a permanent addition. He felt a bit bored now, waiting for his turn, and he wasn't sure exactly what to do. Mokuba caught his eye just then, winking and mouthing a very cute 'You should fuck me' that a couple others caught but couldn't read. Yami smiled, trying not to chuckle, and then it was Jounouchi's turn.

Jou spun Marik, and very pointedly asked "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," Marik chose, because he was fucking trooper and wanted to shake things up a bit.

"Alright," Jounouchi said. "Um...a Dare, a dare..." He paused for a few minutes. "I'm tryina think a somethin' that would be...eh...good..."

"I can also go for truth if you really can't think of anything..."

"Eh, I guess."

"Go for either one—whichever comes first," Marik said.

The group was then subjected to about six minutes of Jounouchi pining for a question or dare for Marik, amidst smaller conversations and commentary. Finally, Honda said, "Look, dude, just ask a damn question."

"I'm tryin'!" Jou said defensively. "Fine, fine! Look, um...oh, god dammit! Er—if you could date anyone here other than Honda because he's a wuss, who would it be?"

"That's such a lame assed question," Mai said. "You could do better."

"Well, I didn't." Jounouchi seemed to be pouting.

"Yami," Marik said. He offered no other explanation, although Miho, Otogi and Anzu wanted to know specifically why. "I answered the question. I'm open about a lot of things, but I'll leave that one." Yami himself shrugged when they looked at him for answers, and there was a slightly uncomfortable silence as Mokuba finished a slice of pizza and refused to make eye contact with him, and Yuugi just smiled, shaking his head and tutting, declining to give up any information on the subject as well.

Then it was Honda's turn, and he spun Otogi, asking, "Truth, Dare, or Kiss?"

To Yami's own surprise, Otogi said, "I'm going to go with Kiss, just because."

Honda's face was trying to keep it together, and he somewhat managed not to appear as upset as he'd been about some of the revelations that had taken place earlier. "Um...I'll redirect that. To Anzu."

Otogi chuckled. "Alright, then." And, since he was sitting right next to her, he didn't have to move very far to reach her. Theirs was a small but romantic kiss, their lips lingering on each other's' for just a moment, hovering for a millisecond before separating. Yami thought to himself that it was a bit creepy to be able to recognize it, but he thought it was cute. Hopefully, Honda would be that comfortable with Miho. After they separated, Otogi said, "With the exception of Yuugi, you're all ridiculously...square."

Mokuba laughed, and Yami knew that it was a term he wasn't familiar with—probably American. "It means," Mokuba said, knowing that some of them didn't know, "that you're lame, uninteresting, things like that."

Yami scoffed. "I haven't gotten started yet."

Yuugi laughed. "Please, don't get him started. I have to deal with that when I get home, and he's supposed to be opening up the store."

"Too late," Yami said. "If Gramps is feeling well enough tomorrow morning, neither of us will have to open."

"What are you two talking about?" Mai asked. "Are you actually debating who's more terrible out of the two of you?"

"Oh no," Yuugi answered, pointing at the former Pharaoh. "That's definitely him. I'm just saying, I'm also exciting. I'll put it like this—I'm a bit of a rush, and Yami's a fucking heart attack."

Yami frowned. "I wouldn't say it like that..." he grumbled.

But Yuugi was feisty tonight. "I would," he bantered.

"Yes," Miho said loudly. "It IS my turn. What shall I do? Who will I spin?" The room fell quiet as she did so, and the bottle, after a few turns, landed on Anzu. "Alright then, Truth, Dare or Kiss?"

"Dare," Anzu said. "I want a chance to prove that I'm not 'square', I guess."

Miho giggled. "Aww. I was planning on kissing you actually, so instead of being like Jounouchi and making everyone wait ten minutes for a question... I dare you to kiss me."

Anzu actually _blushed_ a little. "O-okay."

"Wait," Miho said. "I...um..." she seemed to be grasping for words, but couldn't say them.

"What is it?"

"French her!" Yuugi said. He leaned over to Yami. "Will you go and get me some more pizza?"

Otogi said to the two of them, "Why don't you get a plate and just pile it up? We'll pass it around and then people won't have to keep getting up. If you bring the bottle, too, and make sure everyone has cups, no one would have to get up for drinks either."

Yami got up to get those things, and while he was doing so, Anzu said, "Yuugi, that's perverse..."

"Yes...it is. Now do it."

Miho's whole face was red. "Well...okay...yeah...yes. Yes. We'll do that. I—I dare you to do that. What Yuugi said." Mai, Yami noticed, was almost falling off of Jou's chair trying to lean closer to Miho to see her face, and she transitioned from the arm of the chair to Jounouchi's lap, which he seemed to not mind at all. Yami was at the table of the food now, and he'd decided to get two plates of pizza instead, because there wouldn't be enough on simply one. He passed the drinks to Otogi first, both of them pausing frequently to listen and look at the unfolding scene before them.

"Miho? _Really?_" Anzu looked around the circle—Marik, over the top as always, gave her a thumbs up—and slowly, she nodded. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it."

"How long?" Yuugi said.

"Dammit Yuugi," Jou laughed. "Let them figure it out."

"Screw that, I deserve to be entertained."

"How many drinks have you had?"

"Not enough," Otogi said. "I want him to have three more. I love this Yuugi."

Anzu blushed even more. "Five seconds?" Yuugi was about to add some colorful commentary about that being too short, but Yami caught his eye from across the room as he began preparing the first plate of pizza, and Yuugi got the drift. He wasn't drunk yet—just excited and feeling very showy, apparently. On the other hand, Yami wasn't going to infringe on his fun too much; it wasn't very often he saw Yuugi this enthusiastic for things.

Miho nodded. "That sounds good." Honestly, it really was too short, but Yami wasn't about to object. He managed to pile about six pieces on the first plate and passed it to Otogi before grabbing the second. He had to open a new box in between, so there was a lot of moving and shuffling. He hated feeling like he was disturbing the atmosphere. The partial blond made sure to catch the beginning of the kiss, when Anzu and Miho's lips met after they'd cautiously moved toward each other. Everyone was counting out loud, slow seconds that were probably actually two, but the girls were so nervous that they didn't really realize it. The room instantly became more tense, and dead silent aside from the counting of seconds—it shouldn't have been that big of a deal. Mokuba was blushing in his seat, and Yami thought that was amusing. When he was going to pass the second plate to Otogi he realized that no one was paying attention to him anymore and he made his way back to his seat. The pair was done by then; both wiping their lips—he assumed that the kiss had been a bit sloppy— and heading back to their seats. They were both red, and neither of them were willing to say anything.

"...that was kinda hot," Mokuba said in a quiet voice. There were murmurs of agreement, and Yuugi's smile spread over his entire face. Yami reached over Mokuba to nudge him, and saw that Yuugi's glass had been refilled with one of the liquors Otogi had brought.

Rolling his eyes, Yami asked. "So? How do you feel?"

Miho couldn't answer at all, and Anzu said, "...it wasn't terrible. I—I liked it." Honda was staring at Miho, which was the reason why she couldn't get herself together enough to say any single thing.

"Miho," Yami asked, as he appeared to be the only person either not blushing from being turned on or embarrassed to have been turned on from watching two girls embrace for a few seconds. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm good...I just...wanted to try it..." her voice became quieter with each word she spoke, and Honda was still staring at her.

"Honda," Otogi said, catching on. "Will you pass me that soda bottle by you?" Honda focusing on something else broke his gaze from Miho, and Yami could see that she felt much better without him staring at her, taking a deep, heaving breath.

"Thanks, Anzu," she said. "I don't—I don't like you or anything like that. I don't want you to think I'm a stalker or something..."

"Oh, no," Anzu brushed it off, her blush fading. "Nothing like that. It's just a first for me—that's all."

"Me, too." Yuugi looked like he wanted to say something, but Yami wouldn't let him. Too soon, he thought—normally, Yami wasn't concerned with tact in this capacity. But this was rather sensitive for a lot of people, and he was truly only a dick around people he knew could take what he dished out.

"...okay. That was an interesting first round," Otogi said. "Does anyone want to go for another one?"

"There are too many people here I haven't kissed," Marik said. "Let's go again."

Otogi nodded. "To be honest, I want to know what else the informant here can tell me about some of you," he jostled Yuugi a little bit. "Clearly he knows way more than he was telling us."

Mokuba piped up. "Yeah, I didn't really get to do anything interesting..."

Yami scoffed, thinking,_That was your own damn fault. You could have kissed me._

"I want more dares this round," Jounouchi said. "You know, like the classics. We're in a hotel, you know! Like knocking on doors and leaving notes or flashing people outside! Where is your creativity?"

"Trying not to be arrested," Mai said. "That's where mine is."

"You guys want a break?" Otogi asked. "Before we start the new round?"

"Bathroom break, maybe," Marik said. "Other than that, I'm fine." And after Marik mentioned it, everyone pretty much needed the break, so they decided to start up again in fifteen minutes or so, maybe longer if people wanted to change for bed. Yami was good either way—he hadn't spent the entire round eating and drinking away. Leaning back until he stretched out on the floor and making sure he wasn't near any of the food or drinks, he sighed, waiting for things to kick back up.

A familiar face hung over him, and he ran fingers through the dark hair that brushed over his face. "Hey," Mokuba said.

"Hey," Yami replied. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, I guess. You?"

"Didn't see too much action for myself this round. Gotta hope the next one is better."

Mokuba pulled his hair behind his back and over his other shoulder to get it out of Yami's way. There was some emotion in his eyes, something that he was saying without saying, but Yami found it a bit difficult to read. It was probably just an extension of his earlier discomfort about Marik, but he could never be too sure. "That...sounds like a plan," Mokuba replied softly, and then Anzu was tapping him on the shoulder, asking if she could touch his hair. He turned back around, his presence gone just as quickly as it came and Yami knew that he'd missed something important. Mokuba had been waiting for him to say something, but he hadn't; shaking his head, he closed his eyes and decided that it would wait until later.

* * *

So...this was supposed to be part two of two, but it's going to really end up being two of four, because I've decided that each of the remaining rounds could probably use their own section/prompt. Not only does it help me to deal with knocking out a significant number of prompts in a small amount of time, but I've also done something akin to forwarding the storyline, and that's always good. I've got papers and stuff coming up, though, so I'm not sure how quickly I'll be cranking these out...

By the way, I used a real number generator for this, and because of it I did not at all control or demand who managed to spin who, and it was rather ridiculous. This is why some of their spins land on themselves, or the same people are picked multiple times in the same round *shrugs* That's just how I roll...er—I mean, spin...

Btw, this was prompt #68.


	16. Kiss

He'd wanted to talk to Yami, badly, but he was pulled away by Anzu, who had wanted to quiz him about his hair, the sort of products that he used, etc., and he'd lost the opportunity. When she had finished speaking with him it was pretty much time to start the new round. He tied his hair up and sat, ready. Yami was right next to him, but Mokuba didn't want to start an intimate conversation with him while they were hanging out with friends. It wasn't really so much a conversation that he wanted anyway; just—he didn't know. Just something to reassure him a little bit after having to hear that apparently Marik wanted to jump Yami's bones, maybe? He was being sensitive, and he knew it, but he still somehow felt justified. _Deep breath_, he told himself, and he took one. It wasn't that serious—Marik had simply answered a question and nothing more.

Everyone's return from the bathroom meant that the game was going to pick back up soon. Anzu was dressed in her pajamas, a cute pink get up that reminded him of something from a television show. Mai was wearing a T-shirt that was much too large for her, and some pants that she deemed suitable for sleeping in. It was sexy, in its own way, and Mokuba caught himself starting at her more than once before the game started. No one else seemed to notice this. Jou had changed from his typical jeans into some less outdoorsy pants, but everyone else was pretty much content with the prospect of sleeping in what they were wearing. Mokuba was, anyway.

"Everyone ready?" Otogi asked.

Yuugi nodded. He looked a little worn out—he'd had a lot to drink. "I can't wait~!" Of course he couldn't. Luckily, Yuugi didn't seem as though he intended to drink anymore; Mokuba didn't know what he would do if he'd gotten thrown up on.

"Alright," the green eyed man was clearly the facilitator for this game. "For convenience, same order as last time. Is everyone good with that?" No one objected, and Mokuba looked at Honda. He seemed to be the "Debbie Downer" for this group so far—his ignorance on the part of his friends sexuality had been annoying him earlier in the evening, and it was hard not to suspect that he was going to outburst at any moment that he hated them all and he wanted to leave. Not that Mokuba would have cared if he did.

Marik took the bottle, and it landed on Mai. Mokuba was trying his best not to pay too much attention to him considering how he felt. He had nothing personal against the Egyptian, just—he had a lasting impression that was going to be difficult to change. "Truth, Dare, or Kiss?" he asked, and the he added, "I want to put on a show. I had nothing in the last round."

"Well, I suppose you asked the right person," Mai replied; she was already moving away from Jounouchi's chair, where she had been sitting on the armrest. Jou rolled his eyes behind her, and Mokuba saw Honda chuckle at the small observation. Yuugi looked like a small child watching animals at the zoo and Yami was trying to keep him subdued by making his drink water.

Marik and Mai's kiss wasn't what Mokuba had been expecting at all. He'd thought it would be like Miho and Anzu's, just with less blushing and sighing involved, maybe not as appealing. Marik's face had gotten all serious—like this was a job or something—tentatively pushing his lips to her. He pulled back just as quickly, however, and Mai's face contorted into a confused expression for a second. But Marik went into for another kiss, winding an arm over her shoulder. He pulled her in, pecking her lips two more times before they really got into it. Mai was clearly impressed by his tenderness, and Mokuba had to admit that he'd been as well. He could see Mai falling for the embrace as it continued—after about a minute she was already sighing, whether or not she could hear it herself. Marik was moaning softly and Jounouchi looked as though he were a bit disappointed, but Mokuba didn't want to think about what. Mokuba had thought they were dating, since they'd arrived together, but to be honest, he didn't know what sort of arrangement they had. Otogi had to stop them after three minute had gone by, everyone silently agreeing through looks and gestures that two people having sex in the middle of the room was _not_ what they wanted. Marik pulled back as Otogi "called time", and Mai's face was red, her hands clutching Marik's hoodie in a way that implied that she'd been close to removing it. That kiss had definitely been more hot than Anzu and Miho's, and Mokuba wished that Marik hadn't been involved so that he could feel more comfortable with being turned on. The beach blond got up and went back to his seat grinning; Mai seemed unsure of what to think of the encounter...and no one else seemed to have anything to say, for once.

It was Yuugi that broke the silence. "Where the fuck did that come from?" he asked.

"...I don't know," Mai answered. She touched her lips briefly. It had been a show, alright. Mokuba could...sort of see how Marik _could_ be seen as attractive.

"Well that's a way to start," Miho said.

Honda blanched. "Guys...I think I'm gonna sit out this round. I'll just watch." Mokuba tried to keep the annoyance from his face. Honda had been so weird about the whole night; the younger Kaiba just wanted to punch him in the throat. What a pussy—he was sure that's what Yami would have said.

"I want a kiss like that one," Yami said with quite a bit of vigor. "I'm just throwing that out there before I spin this." He appeared to ignore Honda's reclusion.

"Come on, man," Jou said to Honda. "Wouldn't _you_ want Mai to kiss you like that?"

"Shut up!" Mai half laughed, half threatened. Honda simply shook his head.

"If you spin me, I got it," Marik said in response to Yami, and Mokuba couldn't help rolling his eyes.

"I can't wait!" Yuugi said. "I'm so excited. I hope you get Marik." He was still drinking, Mokuba saw, and he felt tempted to take the glass from him. With every sip he was growing louder. "You're all so fucking hot."

"Yuugi, that's your last drink," Yami said firmly.

"Oh, come on..." Yuugi pouted.

"Last one," Yami hissed. Yuugi didn't argue. Mokuba was glad that someone had said something.

Then Yami spun. Mokuba was kind of hoping that it was him. He had re-directed the last round because things had seemed too easy then; but with all of the making out going on, he wanted to join the banwagon. It wouldn't be too convenient for him now. Part of him also wanted to get to Yami before Marik did, but he was trying to push the competitiveness aside.

"_I'm_ glad that someone took Yuugi's drink," Jou said. "I'm sure he woulda suggested an orgy at some point as a dare." Everyone laughed, including Miho. Mokuba had noticed that she was very shy; but it seemed more out of habit than her being scared or anything. Her definition of pansexual had been perfect.

"I would not!" Yuugi whined, although he was laughing, too.

Yami had spun, and Mokuba's eyes watched the bottle a bit more intensely than he should have. He'd spun it hard, the cunt, and it was spinning a lot longer than it should have. Mokuba shifted his gaze to Yami, glaring as though his look alone would cause Yami to stop it for him. Could he do that? The bottle was on its way to him, slowing down, passing Jou and Mai and going on to Otogi, and Mokuba was hoping, almost praying...but it stopped one person short; it was pointing at Yuugi. He wanted to swear, but held himself back. It _was_ just a game, right?

Yuugi's grin was ear to ear. He said nothing at first, his eyes simply snapping form the bottle to Yami like a serial killer concentrating on his victim. It was a made expression, and even Mokuba was a bit afraid for his lover. Yami _looked_ a bit afraid, and that's what reinforced the impression. No one said anything at first. everyone just stared at the pair, who were looking at each other. "Come on," Yuugi urged, his voice squeaking. "Ask me."

Yami hesitated. "...ah, Yuugi: Truth, Dare, or Kiss?"

"You know which one I want."

"I don't." Yami shook his head, although Mokuba—and Yuugi, apparently, from his smirk—could tell that he was lying.

"You do." Yuug shifted, his body turning in Yami's direction. He was looking over Mokuba's shoulder, and all the Kaiba could think of was that Yuugi was scary as shit when he was drunk.

"...that's bad," Miho said. "Don't make them do that." She turned to Otogi. "That's really perverse..."

"I can't only stop them if they don't want to," Otogi said, but his voice was quiet, whispering as though he was afraid of breaking the atmosphere and the creepiness that Yami and Yuugi was holding between them. Honda pointedly got up and went to the bathroom. Mokuba heard the door lock with a resounding _click_.

Yami spoke slowly, eyes wandering across the room. "...I think...I'm going to redirect—"

But Yuugi cut him off. "No you won't, you little bitch; get over here."

Gasps were all over the room, including the one that Mokuba didn't realize was his until a few seconds later. Otogi chuckled after he got his bearings, sounding a bit nervous as the pair continued to stare at each other. "Um...Yeah, Yuugi, I think I'll agree with Yami—that should be your last drink." Otogi glanced around the room, and he had the others pass him the remaining bottles of anything alcoholic.

Then suddenly, "I'll pay one thousand yen each for you two to get on with it." The voice was Mai's.

Marik snickered. "Wow. Let's get this party started then. I'll add one thousand each, too." He fished for the money in his pockets and tossed it into the center of their circle, narrowly avoiding throwing it into Mokuba's plate of pizza.

Anzu scoffed. "Money? Are you serious?" Yami still looked hesitant, and Mokuba was wondering why. _He_ would have done it for two thousand yen in his pocket.

Miho shook her head. "...this is so wrong...They're twins..." Mokuba rolled his eyes at her, and that was the general reaction.

"You know what? What the hell," Otogi said, checking his pockets as well and coming up with a wallet. "I'll add three thousand yen. Each."

"You know you want to," Yuugi purred. He opened his mouth to say something else, Mokuba noticed, but he closed it again. When Yami didn't respond, he added. "...I'm not going to repeat myself. Get over here."

Mokuba moved back, giving Yami room to scuffle forward. Jou was telling Mai that this was her fault, and Honda peeked in from the bathroom for just a second and then closed the door again. It was odd, Mokuba thought, that Yami hadn't said anything up until this point. Well, aside from Yuugi being drunk and scary, they were closely related—maybe Yami wasn't willing to say anything that was _too_ harsh. "You know," Anzu was telling Yami, "You don't have to do this just because they're offering money..."

"I might be drunk," Yuugi replied instead, "but I can hear you, and I know what I want." He laughed. "Jeez woman, I'm not that out of sorts."

Yami didn't really look at Mokuba at all, but he did say, "Yuugi..." It didn't sound harsh or reprimanding. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm great. I need some food so I won't be as drunk, but other than that, I'm okay," Yuugi declared, smiling. "Besides, there is money on this, right?" Yami still looked pretty nervous, which wasn't like him at all. There were so many things between the lines in this conversation, Mokuba was sure he'd never figure it out. There was still a bit of distance between the "twins" and Yuugi cooed, "...Yami..." hie voice was up and down, melodious as though he were singing a song. Despite his lack of verbal response, Yami did move closer.

"I—I think that we should put a time cap on this," Mokuba said uneasily. "We don't want another Marik and Mai..." Yuugi's glare for that suggestion was downright venomous. Otogi reluctantly agreed, and they set the time for between one minute and 90 seconds. Mokuba just couldn't get over Yami's hesitation. It was a sign that something out of the ordinary was going on.

"Alright," Marik urged. "Go for it. I didn't put money up for nothing."

"Thought you were just 'warming up', Yami," Otogi taunted. Miho turned away and closed her eyes.

Yami growled at the teasing but didn't move. "Go on," Yuugi said playfully. "Lay one on me." Yuugi's face was flushed from all the liquor, his body swaying a bit as though he was listening to a song in his head, which could have been true, as crazy as he was acting at the moment.

"Okay," Yami said quietly, and he pressed his lips to Yuugi's a soft kiss of the sort that Mokuba had never received but had wanted to. The brunette moved back a bit more, pressing himself against one of the beds in the room.

If Mai and Marik had surprised them, this was to Mai and Marik what the two of them had been to Anzu and Miho. Yuugi was the more aggressive of the two, and rather than the silence there was instead a lot of hooping and hollering. Marik was clapping, Otogi and Jou laughing to each other about the affair. Miho was peeking through her fingers, Anzu couldn't stop staring, and neither could Mokuba and Mai. Yuugi wrapped both of his arms around Yami's neck, pulling them close, his lips overwhelming Yami's—the ex-Pharaoh didn't appear to be fighting back. Then there was something subtle that Mokuba was sure that only he noticed: Yuugi's fingers on the back of Yami's neck—right at the nape—short but slightly pointed nails digging into Yami's skin. Yami was clearly concentrating on keeping himself quiet. Marik was shouting "Take his shirt off!" without specifying who he was talking to. Yuugi seemed to enjoy the exchange well enough, although he clearly held enough of his faculties not to do anything more than what was already happening. He was sucking on Yami's lower lip, peppering kisses on Yami's cheeks, his neck—and all the while Yami's eyelashes were fluttering as he tried to keep himself in control, breathing heavily the way that he only did when he was turned on. They hit the time mark, and Otogi said so out loud. Yuugi pulled back, smiling wickedly, and Yami still didn't speak; but his body _trembled_, Yuugi's fingers still pressing into his neck. Yami's eyes met Mokuba for just a moment, and he looked away again. Mokuba's eyebrows rose and he wanted to drag Yami out of the room just to fuck him—just for a few minutes in the hallway. Just a few minutes, that's all. Yuugi went in for one last kiss, long and lingering, before allowing Yami to go back to his seat. The ex-Pharaoh did so with some obvious discomfort, making sure that he pulled his shirt down to cover as much of his crotch as possible; he sat on his side when he reached his seat again.

It made Mokuba wonder: they were one person at some point—did that mean that they shared the same "spots"? It would explain how Yuugi knew Yami so well. Maybe they'd picked up each others' traits when they separated? Had they slept together before? He'd have to ask later.

"Wow," Otogi said, licking his lips. "That was like watching hot twins make out..."

"Oh, yes," Marik agreed with an intake of breath.

Miho's confusion was apparent. "I thought they were twins...?"

"Kind of," Otogi said. "They're not actually twins. It's complicated."

Miho blushed. "...that makes me feel much better!" Her sigh emphasized her feelings. "...well, I thought that they were hot..."

Anzu shook her head. "You two are freaky. I don't even want to know what you do when you're alone at the shop."

"That was worth my money," Mai said, smiling.

Mokuba moved back to his seat, clearing his throat. "Honda, you can come out now," he called a bit loudly, but didn't bother to see whether or not he actually came out. Yuugi and Yami were still staring at each other, Yami looking much less content than Yuugi. He decided to interrupt. "...right. So, my turn," When he spun, he landed on Anzu.

"Forgive me for not eating your face," Anzu said, "but I'm going to choose Truth. I think I've had enough of people making out."

Mokuba smiled, because he agreed—not really; he wouldn't have minded a go with Yami at the moment, but he was tired of _other _people making out. "Fine by me." He paused for a moment, mind flashing back to the moments he'd spent with Anzu, which were very few, and then asked, "I think you're cute. If we had the chance, do you think we would have hooked up?"

"Hooked up?" Anzu said, looking puzzled.

"Ah, sorry; American expression. You know, dating, hanging out, maybe sleeping together?"

Her expression slowly changed from confusion to surprise and then to a blush. "Um..." she began. "I...yeah. I could see that happening. I thought about asking you out before, but—I didn't. And...um, I'm with someone else now..." her face became more red. "Sorry."

"Don't mention it," Mokuba said. He'd forgotten how personally people's refusals were taken in Japan. He felt like a bit of a jerk, making her apologize like that. "Who's the lucky guy?"

Anzu shook her head, but then took a deep breath and sheepishly pointed to Otogi. The green-eyed CEO smiled. "That would be me."

The room erupted in noise, and Mokuba's congratulations were drowned out. Jou was the loudest. "And you didn't tell me? We hang out on the time, Anzu!"

Honda, back in his seat, seemed relieved. Miho also whispered a congratulations, and Mai couldn't stop giggling; Yami just seemed happy that there wasn't any attention on himself. "It wasn't official before," Anzu said defensively. We still had to work out whether we could do the long distance thing..."

"My turn," Yuugi said, chipper as always, taking the bottle and spinning it. No one else was really paying attention, but Mokuba couldn't help his own gasp when he saw that Yuugi's bottle had chosen Yami. They _had_ to be doing that on purpose. Marik was the only other person that noticed, and now Anzu was trying to explain to Jounouchi that she and Otogi hadn't been dating for long and were never doing it behind his back.

"Truth," Yami said without hesitation.

Yuugi pouted, disappointed in the decision. Miho made commentary on how Anzu's boyfriends were not personally Jou's business and Otogi was saying that he hadn't meant to offend anyone. Yuugi was whining, his voice sounding saddened as he asked, "How many people have you slept with since we were dating?"

And then the room became silent again. Miho coughed. "What? WHAT?" Her questions echoed through the room but received no response.

"Yuugi spun and Yami chose Truth," Marik filled in.

_Well, now it makes sense_, Mokuba thought. Honda looked like he was going to faint. The obvious question went unspoken.

Yami seemed to be going back to be himself, and he smiled just a little. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question? You're making this awfully personal, Yuugi." Yami busied himself with a lock of blond hair as he waited for the answer to his counter-question.

"I've got a guess in my head," Yuugi said. "I'm sure it won't surprised me that much."

"...why did you wait until now to ask me, in front of everyone?"

"You've been so _busy_ these days. I hardly see you. I wasn't planning on asking you tonight, but I can't think of another question. It's been bothering me." Mokuba felt a small twinge, knowing that he was being referred to indirectly.

"You're doing that weird withdrawal thing again, Yuugi."

"No, I'm not, I promise."

Yami sighed, and Marik behind him mouthed to Mokuba, "_What withdrawal thing?"_ The younger Kaiba shook his his head in response, to signal that he didn't know; even if he did, Marik would not have been the person he discussed it with.

Jounouchi was the one who ruined it. "You two used to date?"

"Way to state the obvious," Mai hissed. "Shut up." Otogi echoed that statement with a stare, an arm settling around Anzu's shoulders.

"Alright," Yami conceded. "About fifteen people. Maybe a couple more or less." There was s silence following his answer.

Yuugi laughed in a way that made him sound nervous. "I'm surprised, actually. I thought it would be more."

Yami rose his eyebrows. "You're sucking the fun out of the game, Yuugi."

"Sorry," he said. "Otogi, it's your turn, right?" He passed the bottle over, sounding like a child as he added, "Sorry, guys."

"Yuugi?" Otogi asked almost right after. It hadn't taken him more than a moment to spin, and he had landed on Yuugi. "It's you."

"Oh," Yuugi asked. "Really? I'll be good. Truth," he said.

"Alright," Otogi said. "I'm not _really_ trying to get into your business, but...since we know a little about it already...do you—do you still love Yami?"

Yami chuckled, shaking his head. "Of course I do," Yuugi answered, sighing. "But I'm not trying to date him again—I just, I dunno, got carried away. The question was just me checking up on him, really. I haven't asked him in a while. He's like a brother—not really, but sort of—I want to make sure he's being...you know...um...safe, I guess?"

"Are you...?" Jounouchi piped up. "Fifteen is a lot of people."

Yami's eyes widened, surprised that he was suddenly on the spot. "Er—"

Mokuba laughed. "You're all hilarious, you know that? All of you." Of course, he knew the answer to the question...

"Statistically," Miho said, "it's a lot safe if you use condoms."

"Why wouldn't you...?" Honda asked.

"Well," Mai said, "if you're really comfortable with who you're...with..."

"Yeah," Honda agreed. "I guess that's true."

"I use them as often as possible," Otogi said, "but being a corporate head and all, my doctor encourages me to get tested almost every month, even when I haven't done anything. It's a pain. Corporate policy for image and all."

"I've never been tested, though," Honda said. "Never had to. I've got nothing going on that's weird..."

'Well," Miho replied as-a-matter-a-factly, "it's possible that something could be dormant or that you could have a disease that only affects women and you're passing it around."

Honda was going to say something, but Mai interjected. "Yeah, way to kill the conversation, hon."

"I don't like condoms," Yami said, crossing his arms. "I do, however, get myself tested."

Mokuba thought he would weigh in on the conversation, since they were having it—even if the way it started was really strange. It was out in the air now; he might as well say _something._ "I used to used them all the time, every time. But now I supposed that if I've been with someone for a while or if I've known them a long time, I could be comfortable not using them."

"Depends on the partner," Yuugi said simply.

"My thoughts exactly," Marik seconded.

"I use 'em when I have them," Jou said. "I'd rather be married before I have kids."

"Me, too," Anzu agreed.

"Yeah," Yuugi said, grinning. "but you don't have to worry about that with guys..."

"Whose turn is it? Honda asked. People were beginning to pair off into their own conversations, and Anzu raised her hand as Yuugi began speaking to Otogi about what some of the differences between men and women were. Mokuba wondered, as Anzu was spinning, how many people Yuugi had slept with since he and Yami had dated. The first spin, Anzu got herself and so she spun again and got Otogi. They shared a small kiss, which Miho labeled as cute, and then Anzu passed the bottle to Mai, who had to sit on the ground to spin. Mai spun Jounouchi, who chose "Dare. I'm tired of all these Truths."

Mai clapped her hands happily, the girliest gesture Mokuba had seen her exhibit all night. "I dare you to take me out on a date."

Jounouchi smiled; Mokuba knew that he didn't mind this dare at all. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

He frowned. "Can't, babe—class."

Mai pouted. "Tuesday?"

"I should be out of class early. We'll see. I'll call you." Mokuba was surprised that Mai didn't follow up the statement with a 'yay'. That was so cute. He hadn't gone on a date in he-didn't-even-know-how-long. But he pushed that thought aside; Jounouchi spun Anzu, for his turn, and she chose Truth again.

"Oh, crap," Jounouchi said. "Um..."

"Aww, come on!" Otogi groaned. "Not again..."

"Look—I'm not doing it on purpose. I just don't have anything to ask."

"You had a lot of questions earlier when I you found out that we were going out."

"Yeah, well...that was earlier, and you answered them all!" Jou faltered. "Er...alright, um...I'll copy your question to Mokuba from before. How did you lose your virginity?"

Anzu laughed for a moment before answering, "I didn't. I haven't."

Yuugi's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's special!"

Mokuba had to agree. Anzu had to be like, twenty-five, right? In New York, such a thing would have been almost unheard of, foreign customs and such aside. "It's a good thing," he told her. "Things only get worse when you start sleeping with people."

She laughed. "That's what I've spent tonight finding out. At least, I haven't paid for sex, right Jounouchi? You never told me about that," she teased. "And we hang out with each other all the time..."

"Touche," Mai said. She leaned forward over Jounouchi to give Anzu a high-five.

"Burned," Marik cackled, and even Yami laughed. Then he said, "Okay, Honda, it's your turn."

He looked as though someone had asked him to jump off of a building. "No no no. I said I was out this round. I'm good."

"Just spin," Yuugi said. "Don't make me come over there. I'll spread my germs all over you! I kissed Yami, and he's slept with fifteen people!" He began to giggle uncontrollably, still drunk. He cupped his hands around his mouth, and whispered loudly, without really whispering, "_And they were all guys!_" Yami reached over Mokuba to shove Yuugi and he tipped over, falling into Otogi.

"Really," Jounouchi said. "Just go, Honda."

The spikey haired brunette shook his head. "I'm fine, Jou."

Otogi frowned. "We were supposed to do this as a group. Come on! No one's going to make you do anything embarrassing."

"Go without me."

"I'm spinning for you, Honda," Jounouchi said, and he did so. It was a small spin, showing how annoying Honda was being.

In a twist of irony, it landed on Miho, and Honda's cheeks turned red. He refused to do anything, though, and Mokuba was very tempted to horn in and offer to take the turn for him, but Otogi and Jou were trying to talk him into it still. "Go on," Otogi was saying. "Ask her Truth or Dare—or Kiss," he added, trying to entice his friend. A growl beside him told Mokuba that Yami was also annoyed with Honda's stubborn behavior.

"Fine," Honda said. "She can do whatever she wants."

Miho sighed, looking as though she felt bad for Honda's unwillingness to participate. "...well, I was going to ask for a kiss...but if you don't want to play, I won't force you."

Honda's attention was immediately earned, and he seemed unsure of if he should decline or accept the challenge. "Take it," Mai said. "She's a cute girl, after all. We all get what we want eventually."

Miho's face, Mokuba was sure, didn't have too many more shades that he hadn't seen over the course of the night. But she surprised them all in the next few seconds—leaning over to Honda, she planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, short but hard on on the skin, before pulling back and smiling. "I didn't want to wait for you to decide," she said, and then she moved to the floor, scooting over closer to Marik and taking the bottle with her. Honda looked honestly lost for words, scrambling for something to say, but Miho spun without allowing anyone to saying anything else, and she landed on Mai.

"Dare," Mai said. "If you please."

"I'm going to re-direct that dare to Jounouchi. I haven't thought of anything."

Jou clapped his hands together. "I don't know if you can actually do that, but I don't really care...I'm gonna give ya a real dare," he said. "Like the classics!"

Mai rolled her eyes. "Alright, then, big shot, what are you going to do?"

He seemed to be concentrating, which made Mokuba chuckle. "...Fine. Er—I dare you to...Um..." he thought for a second, and Mokuba was about to groan about his being unprepared when he snickered, as though he'd thought of the greatest idea of all. "Mai..." he said. "I dare you...to take your panties and hang them on someone's doorknob."

"Excuse me?" Estrogen-based rage was imminent, Mokuba thought, and he frowned. Yami was laughing beside him, and Yuugi, too; most of the room was laughing, actually. Mai's face was the opposite. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope. That's my dare."

"You can't make her do that," Otogi said. "Fun as it is..." His eyes shifted, implying that he thought it was quite a good dare.

"That _is_ classic," Marik chimed in through his own guffaws.

Mai's face scrunched up in indignation, and she said, "Fine! Fine, I'll do it. I hate all of you." And with that, she got up and went into the bathroom. Jounouchi looked as though he wanted to make a joke about peeking in on her, but he had the sense to keep it to himself, whatever it was that he'd wanted to say. When Mai came out, just a minute or two later, she was holding a lavender pair of underwear balled up in her fist. Everyone started to get up at once, following her (and her flushed face) as she walked out into the hall, but she turned around and hissed, "_I don't want you all coming with me!_"

"How else will we know you did it?" Jounouchi asked. "What if you like throw them in the trash or somethin'?" Mai's expression said that everyone would have to take her word for it, and anyone who was up sat back down. The blond woman exited quickly, shutting the door behind her with her free hand.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?" Anzu asked Otogi.

"Seems like it," he answered. "You're a jerk, by the way, giving her that dare, Jou."

Jou scrambled for a defense. "I had to do it when I was younger! It's only fair. There's nothing wrong with goin' bare, you know. And it's only for tonight. Geez." Honda sat quietly for once, eyes straying over to Miho when she wasn't looking. Mokuba whistled to himself, waiting for Mai to come back—he didn't think it would take more than a moment or two to find a door to hang her...clothing on.

"Mokuba," Yami called to him quietly. "Do you work tomorrow?"

Mokuba shook his head. "I emailed and left a message earlier today. I'm using vacation time, so..." It was nice, being able to say that he was using time. Seto had vacation time built up, and the Board had to _make _him use that time for himself. It was rather sad, actually, but Mokuba really didn't want to end up like that.

"Can I come over?" he asked, and his voice wasn't as quiet as expected.

Mokuba smirked. "Better—you can come home with me instead." Yami smiled. Yuugi tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs up, and the younger Kaiba couldn't help rolling his eyes in response.

Then Mai returned, her face still flushed red but both hands empty. "There, I did it." She took a deep breath. "Before you start talking, I went to a different floor. I didn't want anyone to recognize me." She made her way—rather awkwardly, Mokuba noticed—back to her seat, and she wedged herself in the floor between Jounouchi's chair and Otogi, looking sheepish. "There," she repeated again, mumbling.

"So that's it, then," Otogi said, and everyone more or less cheered, Anzu and Miho particularly telling Mai that she did a good job with the last dare—Marik congratulated her as well and made some pervvy commentary about her lack of underwear. "Wanna go to bed? It's only past eleven."

"Please," Marik said. "I was born for the third round. We decided, didn't we?"

"I'd rather not go again," Honda muttered.

"I had fun," Miho said, and Mokuba had the feeling that it was specifically to contradict Honda. "I think that we should do another one." She hugged herself, smiling. Yami didn't say anything, but Yuugi vouched for another round.

Otogi shrugged. "Okay, we'll do the last one. Try not to be so...I dunno. I think I found out more about some of you than I wanted to know...we can take another break, though."

Mokuba honestly didn't know what to expect from the next round. He eyed Yami, wanting to say something but holding it back. The stuff about Yuugi and him wasn't necessarily unexpected, but he'd expected to have heard about it in a different way, he guessed. Were they over each other? It must have been mighty easy dating yourself, in his opinion—now he wanted to know why they broke up. He wasn't going to ask, though.

Jounouchi stood and stretched. So did Anzu and Otogi, and there was another small rush for the bathroom. Yuugi looked sleepy now, as though he was going to pass out. Drinking heavily did that to you. Yami got up to wait for the bathroom, and Miho said that she would go out into the hall and get more ice—she wanted to chew on some, she said. Mokuba had to go, too, now that he thought about it, but he'd wait for everyone else to finish.

* * *

This round was the same as the last. Random rolls for the spins and stuff. I liked this one a lot better—it was a lot more juicy and there was a lot more going on in terms of the dynamic between Yami and Yuugi. The next round should be a bit more fun than anything else in terms of revealing things about the characters; I won't really say anything about the pairings in here because they're fairly obvious.

To be honest, I got a little tired of writing from Mokuba's POV after going for so long. He's not really exciting unless he's interacting with someone, to a certain degree, and his internal dialogue isn't a entertaining as his external—especially when he's brooding over other people. Some of these dares came straight from the top of my head, however, so I hope that it helped to spice things up a little. I'm going to go back and try to edit some of the older entries before I do the next round, so that I can get a break from this scene.

Btw, this was prompt #21.


	17. Kinky

Yami felt unease as everyone sat back down to to get to the last round. He would have rather they'd gone home. He didn't even want to think about what had just happened with Yuugi. It was just...unfair, and he had the prickling feeling that the conversation he was going to have with his former hikari would have to wait until he was sober if things were going to go correctly. Mokuba had noticed that it was bothering him enough to ask if he was alright, and that was not cool. He hadn't been able to reign himself in proper, and he didn't like being embarrassed in public. Not one bit. No one needed to worry about him, he was fine—Yuugi's tinkering at all.

He just didn't like being taken advantage of.

"Okay," Jounouchi began when they were all settled down again. "Look, I know Otogi's dumbass asked for things to be spiced up last round, but...eh...I think it was a bit over the top." He coughed two words that sounded suspiciously like 'Yami' and 'Yuugi', and the ex-Pharaoh's had to fight a blush from coming to his face. It's not as though he'd orchestrated that kiss—how was he supposed to have know that Yuugi was going to exploit him? Fucking other-half-whatever-bullshit.

"I think I might agree," Otogi said. "Just a little."

"More than you bargained for?" Anzu said, her voice haughty as though she'd won some victory.

"A little," he agreed. "Some of you are pretty fucked up."

"And you didn't know that?" Mokuba laughed from next to him. Yami still hadn't been able to meet his eyes whenever there was a question about Yuugi in the brunette's expression.

Otogi's cheeks tinged a little pink. "Erm...does anyone want to roll for turns again or are you okay with the way it was last time?"

"I'm good," Mokuba replied first. Yami nodded his second. Yuugi seemed to be eating a bit more and coming down off of his drunkenness, but Yami still wasn't happy with him. He said that he was "fine" with the turn arrangements. Everyone else pretty much said the same thing, and Otogi passed the bottle down to Marik.

He spun Miho on his turn, something that Yami hadn't been expecting. She'd surprised him a lot since she had arrived. He had watched her through Yuugi's eyes on many occasions, but she hadn't really stood out to him before. He wished that Honda could see how much she liked him and stop being a bitch about it, but that was something that he couldn't really do anything about. Miho was oddly accepting and open, in her own shy way, and adventurousness with confidence was something that Yami could always respect—even if she was a bit timid when around new people for the first time. It was a very...cute...quality for lack of a better word.

"Truth, please," Miho said, her face turning red, and Yami knew that she was thinking of the image of Marik and Mai in her head. It was hard not to, considering how good of a job he'd done.

"Kay," Marik said, his voice taking on a lighter tone now that he was thinking. Yami watched him, so that he wouldn't have to look in Yuugi's direction. It's not as though Marik was bad to look at. "Okay. Silly question time, because I can't think of anything better and I don't want to be a Jounouchi." Jou, in his chair, scowled. Miho pointedly got up and noisily dragged a cozy armchair from the other side of the room next to the blond's. By the time Marik was about to ask his question, Otogi had gotten up to help her but she was almost there anyway. Yami's eyes followed her as she dragged the large chair across the carpeted area. he hadn't expected her to possess such upper body strength. Marik waited for them to finish before asking this question; Yami could understand wishing he'd had a chair to sit in; his ass was already falling asleep, and he shifted. "Are you a closet freak?"

Miho squeaked, and she landed with an _oomph!_ in her chair that Yami immediately envied. "No," she said, her voice somehow managing to dip down into silence despite speaking a one syllable word.

"Well, that was a waste," Marik said. "I was hoping we could hook up." He laughed. The blush that spread across her face was the most red Yami had seen all night, and he'd seen many shades from her in the last round alone.

It was Yami's turn, and he didn't think that he so desperately wished not to be involved with Yuugi ever in his life. The bottle gods seemed to have favored his wish, however, because he landed on Honda, who guardedly responded, "Truth," way too quickly. Yami was growing tired of his bullshit, and so he decided to get to the heart of the matter.

"I'm aware of the rules," Yami said first, "but I'm still going to ask this." Honda's face was a veil of confusion for a moment, showing that he was unsure of what the ex-Pharaoh was planning. "Do you think of me differently because I'm gay?" It was not a word that he normally would have said, and the question felt prickly on his tongue after he asked it; wrong. He thought of the other ways that he could have asked this question, but he wasn't joking or making this optional. That was his question, and he wanted a somewhat honest answer. He was waiting for someone to tell him that he wasn't being fair, that he was indeed breaking the rules and would have to ask Honda another question—they'd objected to rules during other moments of the other rounds—but they said nothing at all. The room was silent as it waited for Honda's answer. Like it was holding its breath. For a moment, Yami felt the command that he'd possessed in another time, but he allowed it to slip through his fingers instead of grasping it tightly. Dwelling on the past did nothing for him, and these were his _friends_.

The uni-spiked brunette on the other side of the room didn't look embarrassed or shamed. He seemed to actually be mulling it over in his head. Mokuba turned toward him, and then Yami met his eyes levelly. No, he hadn't wanted to put himself out there completely in the way that he had, but there wasn't really another option if he wanted this answered without being a dick. He wasn't going to ask a general question that applied to anyone more than himself. For a moment, Mai looked as though she wanted to say something, but she didn't, instead settling into Jounouchi's lap and cuddling him. After taking his time to think, Honda said finally, "No." It was a firm answer, something that Yami accepted because of the look in his eyes and how hard he was gripping the arm of the chair that Miho was sitting in. "I just...I just don't want to hear about it, or see it. I don't. I'm not into that and it bothers me." He crossed his arms after that, done with his self-reflection.

Jounouchi's voice, spoke loud, even though it ground itself into existence as though he was unsure if he had the privilege to speak. "I'm not sure if that was a fair question."

Yami's counter was ready. "I'm the only fully...gay man here. I think it's totally a fair question. It only applies to me." Again, the words stuck to his tongue and it felt weird, labeling himself like that. He fit a lot of labels, to be sure, but he didn't like using them on himself, especially when his friends were involved and...for the most part, they knew exactly who he was. Hell, they'd help to _make_ him who he was.

Miho was acutely aware and somehow detached at the same time, as she said, "Wow, you and Yuugi have different orientations—that is SO COOL!" Her voice had taken a high pitch on the last two words, and Yami was a bit irked by her excitement at his and Yuugi's diversity. No one else attempted to reply to her exclamation.

"I guess," Jounouchi said, but Yami could tell that they didn't agree on the matter.

Marik tilted his head, gazing in Yami's direction, eyes asking_ Are you okay?_And Yami nodded because he was. Only the words felt awkward—not the question in and of itself, and he had gotten an answer that he felt was honest, coming from Honda. "I think Yami has a point," Marik said quietly, and he sat back, watching everyone else.

Mokuba's expression didn't really seem to lean one way or another on the issue, but Yuugi looked a bit ...scared? Apprehensive? Either way, the liquor was sort of beginning to wear off and he wasn't only experiencing self-inflicted euphoria. That was good. Yuugi seemed worried about his question, and Yami shrugged. He had been waiting for Otogi to put in his word on the issue, as he'd proven to be the proctor of the game, but the dicey man said nothing, and therefore Yami took it upon himself to straighten it out "It's been answered now, anyway," he said. "I believe Mokuba is next."

Mokuba took the bottle, silent, and everyone's eyes landed on the bottle as it spun, so that they didn't have to look at each other and ask silent questions about what had just happened. Yami appreciated the discretion, but he felt as though they should have voiced their opinions if they had any. His turn was over now, though, and hopefully, this would be a distraction. When the bottle finished spinning, it was pointing toward Anzu. She blushed, and glanced at Otogi for a moment before looking back at Mokuba. "Um...A kiss, please?" she asked, and her face colored itself just enough pink for her to seem modest and not embarrassed. "For not scooping you up when I had the chance. I almost asked you out, you know..." Mokuba blushed, too, something that Yami hadn't seen from him in a long time if at all.

"For lost love?" he said, and Yami could already hear the romantic in him beginning to surface. Anzu was only two people away from him, and it didn't take a long time to get over to Anzu. He seemed a bit too enthusiastic for Yami's taste, but he wasn't going to make any judgments. Mokuba's eyes locked with Otogi's for a moment and he chuckled. "Only if it's okay..."

Otogi rolled his eyes. "Be my guest," he said. His voice took on mocking tones as he added, "Who am I to stand in the way of 'lost love'?" Jounouchi, Mai, Miho, Yuugi, Marik, and even Anzu herself laughed softly to themselves about the joke.

Their embrace only lasted a few seconds—nothing for Yami to feel jealousy over—but Anzu's cheeks were darkening when they pulled apart. It was the kind of kiss that Mokuba liked, all full of unfulfilled promises and gestures, ideas that the mind had run away with. Ideas like eternal love, love conquering all, that kind of stuff. Anzu seemed to be into that stuff too, but most girls were, Yami thought. He shook his head, knowing that sort of gesture wasn't something he could share with Mokuba—he just wasn't that kind of guy. The Kaiba returned looking very satisfied—almost as satisfied as after a night with Yami—and that content expression, the ex-Pharaoh realized quickly, was what he'd begun to feel jealousy over. He extinguished that flame quickly, though; if there was anything Yami couldn't give Mokuba, he could go find it somewhere else.

Yuugi spun next, and landed on Otogi. "Gimme a dare," Otogi said, smirking in a mischievous way that told Yami that he was hoping for something like the dare Jou had given Mai.

"I don't think you should be up to no good tonight," Yuugi said. Reaching into the pile of yen, still on the ground from...their encounter last round, Yuugi said after a small hiccup, "I dare you to take this one thousand yen bill and go find a kid in the lobby to give it to."

That was something a bit different. Otogi's expression was surprised at first, but his features softened. "Alright," he said. "That sounds good enough. You got that money fair and square, though, Yuugi," he said with a wink. "So that counts as your good deed for the night, too."

Yami didn't really want to touch the yen; he's probably give it back to the people who tossed it in—he didn't even remember who'd bet on it last round. As though he could hear Yami's inner thoughts, Marik said poignantly, "Don't think I'm taking my yen back." He was talking to both Yami and Yuugi.

"I wasn't going to give it back," Yuugi said, and then Marik's eyes fell on Yami, and he quickly looked away.

"You guys coming?" Otogi said. "Don't leave me to scare a poor child by myself."

"Don't scare any children," Miho said, and her voice was the most motherly one he'd heard, probably, within the last month. Otogi hung his head and made toward the door. Honda was up next with Miho, and then Jou and Mai, then Anzu. Mokuba was next, helping Yuugi, and then Yami rose with Marik trailing behind him. They all shoved out of the door, on to the floor and to the elevators. Marik had to hold the door for Anzu and Otogi to go back in and get their key cards, and Yami was glad that they did because he didn't want to be stranded. The elevator, when it came, already had about five people in it, and they had to go down in two groups: Otogi first, since this was his dare, with Anzu, Yuugi who was clutching Mokuba's arm, and Miho squeezed in at the last minute. Mokuba's eyes flashed at him as the doors closed, and Yami tried to send him a small smile. The next elevator, ironically, was empty, and the rest of them got on with ease. It took way too long to get to the ground floor (Yami couldn't remember what floor they were on), and he waited for that feeling in his stomach to settle before stepping out of the elevator toward the front desk.

Ra seemed to have other plans for him, though. A plan named Marik. A plan who was now clutching his arm, tugging him _roughly_ in the opposite direction, quickly, and around the corner as the others continued forward. The hallway was empty, he noticed, and if he hadn't been with Marik the entire time in the same room he would have accused the blond of paying off the employees. He wasn't above it. All of this was very obvious, and, as he was pinned against the wall he said nothing because he knew what was coming—no one pulled a past lover of theirs away from friends and into a deserted hallway purely as a joke. His amethyst eyes calmly met Marik's lavender ones, his lips pursed and waiting.

The first kiss was just above his collarbone, something that Yami hadn't guessed correctly but it was close enough. He chuckled as he suppressed the heat that threatened to spread—as it always did, when he was alone with someone he was attracted to—and said, "You're ridiculous Marik."

"Am I?" Marik shot back. "Your _toy _is stuck with Yuugi. I think this is an appropriate course of action. I haven't spun you yet."

"Afraid that you won't?" Yami said, trying to keep his voice down.

Marik straightened up, allowing Yami to do the same as a bellboy walked past—quickly, as though he were late for something. "No. Just adjusting my odds."

"Cheating, you mean?" Yami remarked as Marik planted another kiss on his neck, his left hand enclosing tightly around Yami's right arm.

"I saw what Yuugi did, by the way—that cheeky little bastard."

Yami frowned, taking a breath. "I don't like being used."

"No no—I'm sure that he was enjoying it, too. He liked it."

"Hmph," was Yami's response. Marik's lips were on his jaw now.

"Don't be so grumpy, love," Marik said.

"Marik, hands _off_." Yami's arms were crossed now.

"Ooh," he replied. "I love it when your voice has that angry growl."

"_Marik_."

"What? Oh, come on, Yami—when was the last time we—"

"Don't start that. Come on." Yami pushed Marik away from him, moving to whip around the corner again and rejoin their friends.

Otogi was actually handing yen to a small child, and as they approached, a number of eyes swiveled to look at the two of them, including Mokuba and Yuugi, who were no longer attached but still standing near each other. After his quick glance, Mokuba turned away, unconcerned and perhaps disappointed, which made Yami feel as though he'd done something wrong. It was the kind of look that Gramps would have given him, which was not cool at all. Marik was frowning as well, playing the part of the child that hadn't gotten what he wanted. Yami distracted himself by watching the child as he walked away, and although no one had said anything about his absence he knew that they were making their own assumptions about it. Only Miho, Anzu and Otogi seemed to not have noticed, and as they found an empty elevator and all climbed onto it he felt the others' eyes on him. Even Yuugi said in drunken wonderment, "Woooow. Really?" And although he could have been talking about anything, Yami was sure that it was directed toward him.

Anzu opened the door and ushered everyone in. "Yami," Mokuba said, his eyebrows furrowed. He was clearly pissed. Everyone turned back to the door to look. "I want to talk to you outside for a second. Yuugi drove, right?"

"Yeah..." Yami began to answer, but before anyone could be nosey enough to try to peek in on their conversation Mokuba closed the door. If Mokuba's face was anything to go by, the fucking world was going to end.

"Really, Yami? Right in front of me? _Everyone knew you were missing!_" he hissed.

Yami sighed. "Well, Marik wanted to talk to me about something."

"You expect me to believe that?" Despite being clearly upset, Mokuba did manage to keep his voice to a whisper. Yami moved away from the door and down the hall a bit to stop any further eavesdroppers—-he knew some of them distinctly had a penchant for it.

"Yes, because we didn't do anything; he kissed my cheek and that was it."

Mokuba's features relaxed, but he still looked bothered. "Yami..."

Yami rolled his eyes; Mokuba was going all brigade on his ass and he hadn't even _gotten_ anything. "I don't have to prove anything to you."

"That's not the point," Mokuba said. "It's got nothing to do with him; it's just the way he went about it! You think he's the only one who wants you? I'm just not going to be a needy child about it. I don't need to paw at you every second for you to know that I want you—I shouldn't have to. If I could get away with it, do you really think I wouldn't have tried to pull you away from everyone? He's so fucking obvious. He grinds my gears."

Yami crossed his arms, glad that Mokuba was more upset at Marik's audacity than at him. "Well, Marik is who he is." He shrugged. "I don't mind him as much. It's not like I care about what everyone thinks."

"Not the point."

"I know what the point is," Yami spat back mockingly. "Thanks, Mokuba-sensei, for giving me this much needed reprimand."

"I'll give you a fucking reprimand..." Mokuba growled, moving forward more quickly than Yami could keep up with him—wasn't expecting it—hands flexing to hem up Yami's collar. He stopped short, though, and Yami noticed for the first time that when Mokuba was truly upset he got the cutest crinkle near the top of his nose.

The aggression was a welcome environment for Yami, and the former spirit _wanted_ Mokuba to be angry, to hit him, slap him. Yami felt his blood boiling with anticipation, the sensation of suffocation catching within his chest when his body seized in anticipation._ Do it! Doitdoitdoitdoit_... He couldn't help the smile that began to crease his lips, and just like that, he saw the intensity fading from Mokuba's eyes. Ra, that angry look had been the most attractive expression he'd ever seen. "Hit me," Yami breathed, his tongue darting out first to brush Mokuba's bottom lip, then to moisten his own.

"You're sick, Yami," Mokuba muttered, moving back to the hotel door before knocking. Yami sighed, trying to get a hold of himself, calm the fierce beating of his heart, suppress the trembles coiling around his skin. The door opened not more than a second later, and Yami knew that someone—namely Marik—opened it and probably had been trying to listen. Yami frowned at him before taking his seat, and Mokuba passed by the blond without saying anything at all.

"Everything okay?" Otogi asked. "I'm about to take my turn."

"Working out rides," Mokuba said. "And telling Yami not to make an ass of himself." Yami's almost said at least twenty-five different things. But he was still freeing himself of the high of almost being abused, and he kept himself quiet while he finished composing himself. Yuugi caught his eye from where he'd been sitting, and when their eyes locked the slighter man gave him a large grin. Yami wished he could have banished it.

Otogi's spin was welcome to Yami, considering that he hadn't been paying attention on the last dare, and Otogi spun Marik. The lavender eyed man smiled. "Truth; I feel like being a good Samaritan at the moment."

"Alright," Otogi said, smiling viciously. "What were you and Yami doing while we were in the lobby?" Mokuba's gaze deliberately settled on Marik directly for the first time that evening, interested in the answer.

"You're a dick," Jounouchi commented, but with a chuckle that belied his tone.

"Well, considering that we were trying to brighten up a child's day, I thought I might ask what was more important..."

"Does it count as doing a good deed if you were dared to do it?" Marik asked in response.

"I'm not the one who has to answer any questions." Otogi looked a bit stunned by the accusation that he wasn't a nice person naturally—Yami could see it in the way he folded his arms.

"We didn't do anything sexual, since that's what you're actually asking," Marik folded his own arms, looking just as indignant at Otogi. "All I did was talk to him about something he clearly didn't want to hear about and gave him a kiss on the cheek."

"Is that true, Yami?" Anzu's voice chimed in, eyes flashing at Marik suspiciously.

Yami rolled his eyes. "Why would he lie? There wasn't enough time to do anything else." Miho smiled at him in a way that he didn't like, and settled herself back in the plushy chair that she was sitting in. Yami wasn't sure how to respond to that, and so he didn't.

Anzu rolled her eyes. "I'm taking my turn," she announced. She grabbed the bottle and made her spin—she landed on Honda. It was rather obvious that she wasn't happy with this, and things were only made worse when Honda chose 'truth'. Anzu groaned. "I don't have a question," she said. She took a moment to think. "Now...what could I ask you...?"

"Anything," Otogi said. "It's not like Honda's hard to read."

"Hey!" Honda said, and Yami chuckled.

"All right then," Anzu began, a look foreshadowing mischief on her face. "Tell us about something you did that we don't know about!"

The circle of people grew sudden quiet, and Yami couldn't tell if it was coincidental or in response to the question, despite his suspicions. "That's not a question," he said softly.

Anzu knitted her eyebrows at him. "So what? He hasn't really answered an interesting question this whole time. This way we'll know it's interesting!" Yami shrugged in response.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Mokuba's mouth. "I'll allow it."

Jounouchi laughed. "I too. Definitely. Answer th' question!"

Otogi smiled. "...well...she is right..."

Honda paled. "You're gonna side with her?"

"Spice things up, monkey boy," Marik said, folding his arms with a sneer.

Yuugi was laughing uncontrollably and didn't respond. Mai nor Miho said anything, but they hadn't opposed it, either.

"Really?" Honda asked. When everyone stared back at him, he sighed. "Uh..." he stammered, and frowned. "I'm not sure that there is one..."

"There has to be _something_!" Anzu said, folding her arms and pouting. "You _do_ go out and do things, don't you? At least in high school you did!"

"Yeah, but..." Honda trailed off. "Um—okay. Well, I guess...I...I had a girlfriend at some point." he said simply.

_O...kay?_ Yami thought, and when he looked over at Mokuba, a raised eyebrow echoed his feelings. What Honda had revealed wasn't very amazing at all.

To the contrary, a hub-bub of speech began to rise as everyone began to ask questions about who the girl was and when they'd been together—Jounouchi was trying a bit louder than the rest, but they all seems curious.

"Really, guys, it wasn't a bit deal," Honda insisted. "It was just this girl I knew..."

"Seems like she's a big deal," Miho said, smiling brightly beside him. He blushed so much that Yami thought he'd lose sight of Honda's face.

"N-not really," he stuttered. "I just...I was with her before I met Yuugi and everyone."

"How long, though?" Jou asked again. "We were hangin' tough! How did I miss that?"

"Oh, a year maybe—or something close. I screwed it up, though, playing around with Jou." Honda said, and Yami scoffed in surprise. _That_ nitwit went a whole year in a relationship of any kind.

"What's her name?" Otogi laughed. "So that we know that you're not lying."

"Hey, how am I screwing around?" Jou protested. "We did epic shit together, man!"

For the first time, Mai spoke. "I still want to know her name," she said quietly.

"Oh," Honda said, looking around the room. Even his ears were blushing red, and he whispered in a low voice, "her name was..." his voice gave out in the end, though, and Yami scowled.

"What?" Jou groaned. "Come on! Seriously, what's her name?"

A giggle sounded. "It's Miho," said a voice that wasn't Honda's.

There was a moment of silence at first, and then, "HOLY SHIT!" Yuugi shouted from their corner of the room. The alcohol obviously wasn't fading away soon enough.

Several people were asking, "What?"; Marik lightly coughed, and Mokuba took a sip of whatever it was he was drinking—

Miho's hand covered Honda's which were sitting in his lap. "We dated his first year of high school. But I broke up with him because...I was immature at the time and he spent a lot of days with Jounouchi. We stopped talking really, after that, and I turned him down when he gave me that puzzle out of spite because he still liked me. It was a mistake, though, I've realized. I was just too young. I wanted a pretty boy, like in the comics." She was still smiling. "We didn't tell anyone because we were both embarrassed. Like he said, I was just some girl."

"No," Honda protested weakly. "I didn't..."

"I know," Miho said. "But I was. Maybe I'm worth a bit more now—at least, I hope so." She giggled again.

There was a clamor for those wanting to ask more questions, but Miho added, "I believe it's Mai's turn." Her voice was quiet, Yami noticed, but there was a something different about it. It was much more confident.

"Yeah it is," Mai responded. "Wow, Honda! You're the best secret of the night. Who would have thought?" she slid off of the arm of chair Jounouchi was sitting in and onto the floor to spin the bottle. "_Spin, spin, spin_!" she chanted happily in English, clapping her hands together for luck.

She landed on Miho, who chose "Dare," before Mai had even bothered to ask the question.

"So eager," Mai said, grinning. "I got it! I've had this in my head since the last round. I want you, hun, to go around on the floor. Ask who can name all of the sections of the Dewey Decimals System."

Silence followed her request for a moment...and then, "HOLY SHIT!" Yuugi said loudly.

"Shut up," Yami snapped, amidst laughter from everyone else.

"Really?" Miho answered happily. "Alright, I'll do it!"

"Do _you_ know it?" Jounouchi asked skeptically.

"Of course I do! I'm a librarian!" she said defensively. "Starting section 000, General Reference—"

"Ah...that's great," Jounouchi said, cutting her off. Apparently that was good enough for him._ Way to be a dick, Jou,_ Yami thought.

"Who wants to come with me?" she asked. "You guys can take notes!"

The gazes that she received from everyone in response made it clear that no one really wanted to go, and Yami certainly didn't. He knew the Dewey Decimal System, but he wasn't the slightest bit interested on seeing if other people did. "You can take me," Yuugi hiccuped.

"Um," Miho awkwardly answered, "I think I'm alight. I-I'm just going to go. What should I say? How should I ask?"

"I think that you should..." Otogi began. "I dunno. Offer 1000 yen as a prize?"

"I think we've given away enough money tonight," Mokuba scoffed.

"Please," Mai said, her voice pricking up to show that she agreed with him. She curled a length of blond hair between her fingers. "Just tell them it's something you're doing for a project." She reached for Miho's chair, tapping Miho's hand comfortingly.

"I could use a break. Get on with it," Yami said, and he reached into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he knew was there.

Miho looked a bit hurt, but as she made her way to the door, Otogi said, "Alright! Anyone up for another small break while Miho's doing her dare?"

"_Yes_," Mokuba said. "Please."

Yami stood, stretching, and Yuugi leaned over until he lying on his side. "Yuugi," he called. "Yuugi—"

"Yeah?"

"You good?" Yami asked. "Need t'puke or something?"

"Uh-uh," Yuugi said. "He yawned and turned over.

In the meantime, Mokuba said to Otogi, "I'm gonna go smoke out on the balcony."

Otogi blinked. "Uh...okay."

"I was thinking the same thing," Yami muttered, but received no response from either of them.

"That's such a terrible habit," Anzu chided.

"I know," Mokuba said before Yami could, opening the curtains behind Miho and Jounouchi's chairs before sliding open the balcony door.

Yami stepped out into the warm night air right behind him. "Light," he asked. "Got one?"

"Yeah," Mokuba said, and out came that ridiculous Blue Eyes zippo. What had he been thinking when he'd bought that thing. Nothing apparently.

The two of them smoked in silence. Yami couldn't think of anything poignant to say, and Mokuba hadn't said a single thing, either. They headed back inside, just as silent, and a few more minutes passed before Miho returned. Yuugi had been drifting off to sleep, and Yami roused him. "Hm?" Yuugi groaned.

There was a knock. "You guys!" Miho's voice sang, much louder than it had ever been up to that point. Marik opened the door. "I got it!"

"There was a little girl on the floor—she knew it! Ha!" Miho's expression was triumphant.

"That's great," Honda congratulated her. Mai smiled.

"Did you all finish the game without me?"

"Of course not," Anzu said. "I wouldn't let them do a thing like that."

"What did they look like?" Jou asked, "When you asked them about the system-thing?"

"Dewey Decimal System," Miho corrected. "It was funny. I thought it was quite interesting! A few people didn't even know that books were organized like that." She paused before asking, "Are we ending it, then? Or are you guys still going?"

"Eh," Otogi said. "It's up to you all."

There was a lot of mumbling, but eventually everyone decided to turn in for the night—things had dragged on long enough, after all, and Yuugi was pretty much sleeping in Otogi's lap. It was a cute sight, especially with a drowsy Anzu leaning on his other shoulder. It was obvious, though, that everyone was tired.

"Alright, everyone," Otogi said. "The extra bed and the rollaway bed are first come first serve. Grab 'em while you can."

"I'll help with the clean up," Yami said, standing again and stretching.

"I'm sleeping here," Mokuba said to no one in particular. "I'm too tired to drive. I'll get up in the morning."

The scramble for sleeping space began. Marik simply pulled a comforter and a pillow from one of the beds and curled up on the floor. The sight made Yami chuckle. He was such a child, and he looked almost identical to Yuugi. Mai and Jou grabbed one of the rollaways, and Miho grabbed another one. Honda was decided to lay in one of the chairs the long way after grabbing a pillow as well.

Yami couldn't keep the smirk from his face. "Bunch 'a bums," he said quietly.

* * *

This took a looooooooooooooooooong time to finish. Too long, which is why it's cut off to the extent that it is. But I don't think it was too bad. Too long for a drabble, perhaps, but not terrible in and of itself.

Anyway, this is part four of the consecutive sleepover series, random number generators were used to determine who landed on who, and some of these activities were made up, some suggested by some friends of mine (fanservice ftw?)

This is prompt #30.


	18. Fingers

Mokuba had called off of work that Monday. After the night before with everyone else, he was determined to catch up on his sleep. For once, when Yami had gone home with him, they hadn't had sex at all; they'd simply sprawled out on the bed at around 9AM and then he had been asleep for an hour. When he'd gotten up Yami was still asleep next to him, another first—he hadn't cuddled himself up against the partial blond—and Mokuba made sure not to disturb his lover as he got out of bed. He snuck into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and changing his clothing. He glanced into his room after he'd gotten dressed and saw that Yami was still asleep, which was really strange. Yami had always been a night owl and even when he'd stayed up late he seemed to be able to get up early to do whatever it was that he'd needed to do. He looked really tired after the truth or dare game the night before, so Mokuba just left his spare apartment key for him with a small note, like the one he'd left when everyone else had stayed over. He was reachable by phone, although he didn't say where he was going.

Even on his motorcycle it didn't take long to get to Kaiba Mansion. It was large as always, imposing; but Mokuba barely took note of that as he conversed briefly with the guard at the gate—he was adjusting quite well, and he was getting used to his old home again. He parked beside front entrance on the grass, something that he wasn't supposed to do but was doing anyway for convenience. He wasn't going to let anyone touch LaShonda, and he was not a fan of valet services, anyway. He was greeted by the help, who ushered him in as soon as they recognized him, and mentioned that Seto was home.

"There's no need to bother him," Mokuba said. "I just came to see my old room, if that's okay? Got any orders about me coming over?"

"No, young Master," the wizened voice, the old butler that Mokuba had known for a large portion of his life responded to him kindly. "I'll leave you be. Please fetch me if I am needed."

"Of course," Mokuba said, his voice softening as he began to walk through the entry hall and into the actual dwelling. He removed his jacket and hung it up, just to be polite—he was sure that he looked much more approachable without the leather.

He made his way up to the second floor, knowing that there was nothing for him on the first—only the large dining room, the offices, the conference room and the other facilities used for business meetings and dinner parties were down there. And that was probably where Seto was slaving away as usual for the company. It was nice to see that he'd kept up the house—the wooden floors that covered the entry hall didn't—couldn't—squeak, and the paint was just as white as the day that he'd left. The second floor was much more friendly: Although the halls and furniture still had the boring white and black look, the hall leading to the den made him feel more at home. The den had been refurbished, and it was no longer kid friendly like it was before he left. No game systems, only one television, the floor re-carpeted—and the couch was now leather. Had he really been gone for that long? _I suppose so_. He turned around and went to his old room, looking in.

It hadn't been changed. The oversized bed was still there, and so was the toybox that had always sat next to it—Mokuba remembered, when he was getting ready to leave, telling Seto not to throw them away because he wanted to keep the memories. It was nice knowing that his request had been listened to. The large television was still there, and some of the playing cards that he had once used. He wasn't sure whether or not he should have felt emotional about it all. Sitting on his bed, he thought of what it would be like to live here now, to have someone to wake him up in the morning and give him breakfast and send him on his way—that's what would happen if he lived here. He shook his head. He liked his apartment, although he liked his room.

He needed to start spending more time with Seto again. Lying back on his bed, he thought about this idea more. What would he do? Ask Seto out to the movies? To dinner—but that didn't turn out very well last time. Maybe a dinner with Yami? No—He wasn't going to do that. Seto already knew Yami, and he wasn't going to present Yami to him like a boyfriend. They weren't even serious yet, and Mokuba had no assurance that they ever would be. He was beginning to like it that way, though; it was nice being without the obligation, and it seemed as though Yami and Marik had their own issues to work out, if the last night was any indication. He wasn't going to interfere with that. He sighed. "I have such shitty luck. Always with the fuckbuddies. Never a relationship." And that was the last thought he'd had before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke up, he felt refreshed, and his phone was vibrating by him. Seven missed texts. Otogi, Anzu, Jou and Mai were talking about how great of a time they had (with Mai apologizing for not recognizing him); Yuugi had thanked him for the ride home, and told him that he had a terrible (but worthwhile) headache; Last was Yami, letting him know he had the note and going so far as to ask if he was going to be home at all that day. Mokuba quickly replied that he would be in an hour or two.

The last one was fate: ANDREA was the name that read in his inbox. _**I haven't heard from you at all this month. Forget about me already?**_

Mokuba had never typed as quickly on his phone in his life. __

_Of course not_, he thumbed out on his phone,_ Just been busy. Had to get settled in. Just thought about you yesterday.__  
_  
It was another minute before he got a reply. _**Msg me online, dummy! This costs 30 cents per text!**___

_Not near a comp,_ he wrote back_. I can later if you want, though. Same name?___

This time it took two minutes. _**At work, sry. Why would my name change?**_**__**

_I don't know. I'm all sorts of crazy without you._ He paused just for a minute, and erased the last sentence before he sent it.

_**K. Getting back 2 work. Luv U. Msg Me.**_**__**

_Don't say things like that. You know how I feel about you. _He didn't get an answer, and he hadn't been expecting one, either. He sat there, trying to dissect what he'd said, wondering if he should have said something different. To be honest, he hadn't thought about her at all since he'd gotten back—Yami had seen to that. He didn' t like it; it seemed as though just mentioning her was speaking her existence into his life. He didn't need this. Not now, when it seemed as though Yami might be moving away from him, too. He sighed, taking out his phone and telling Yami that he would be home very soon. He needed a distraction from this.

His phone's time read: 12:43

Mokuba sighed before he made his way back into the den, not pausing once to look at any of the new additions to his childhood hang out. Instead, he pushed past to the kitchen, socks padding silently across the carpet—until he heard a laugh. It was Seto of course, but it wasn't the voice that was bothering him. Mokuba clung to the side of the wall, hoping that he hadn't been seen. Seto was crossing the kitchen, being led by fingers intertwined with his own. They were probably heading toward the table in the back, by the window. Mokuba's pulse was racing—he'd almost been caught. More importantly...he'd almost gotten caught in his own house. He almost laughed at the idea as he padded across the floor. With the help moving about, he was sure that he wouldn't be noticed unless Seto was on his way out right at that moment. Sighing again, and taking a deep breath so that he wouldn't be heard breathing (although it was a silly idea, he remembered Seto _always_ knowing where he was in the Manor when he'd been a kid) and he hurried out to the stairs and out the door. The butler was there, as always, asking if there was anything that he needed, and no—other than getting his coat all Mokuba needed was to get the fuck out of dodge.

So he did.

* * *

Alright~! So Seto's holding hands. Does this mean anything? Of course it does-this is a fanfic! Anyway, I'd like to hear your guesses at who it could be...

This is prompt #38.


	19. Lick

The sun was setting; the colors splashed on everything it could touch-trees, sidewalk, children. Yami had always felt better, more peaceful in the sunset and rise. It was this that pacified him.

Marik wanted ice cream. Yami didn't really want to, but the Egyptian had done nothing to offend him so he bought it anyway. It was only after that he recalled that Marik could have bought it himself. He swore. The vendor had been closing and Marik caught him just in enough time to make the last purchase. When the beach blond returned he was holding a cone, and Yami couldn't help but smile at the child-like visage. Marik gazed back at him, but Yami's smile didn't falter until Marik took his hand, slurping at his quickly melting treat. They sat at a bench, and Yami didn't mind waiting there until Marik had finished. "Feels like old times," Marik said somewhere in between. Yami didn't respond. There was another silence until he heard the _crunch_ of the cone being consumed. By this time, Yami was leaning back on the wooden seat, eyes closed; feeling good, peaceful, perfect. He felt perfect.

And then Marik spoke. "...Yami."

"Hm?" Yami said lazily in response. The contentment was evident in his voice and even Marik waited a moment to speak.

"Yami," he said again, more firm. Yami still didn't open his eyes, but he made sure to shift his body slightly. "I'm glad I got to see you. I think we're leaving in a few days, so I just wanted to make sure I told you that."

"_Mmhmm_," was Yami's response. Although he did hate seeing Marik, he loved seeing Marik. There was another moment of silence between them, and then Yami could feel the lavender—eyed man's lips against his own, gently feeling. Yami didn't decline or accept the lips, simply sat there. He opened his eyes when he felt Marik pull away. "Feeling a bit sensitive?" he asked, voice still cheerful.

Marik took a deep breath. "I want us to get back together."

Yami stretched a little, arms extending above his head for a bit before crossing them behind his head. "You already know that's not going to happen. You live in Egypt. I'm not coming with you. I can't live there. We know this already."

"I know," Marik said, "but—"

"And," Yami added, "I'm with Mokuba right now."

"You don't even know if you're with him," Marik argued. "You haven't decided to be exclusive."

Yami's smile still didn't fade. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the warm breeze and the red that he could see on the insides of his eyelids from the sunset. "That's true. But I haven't slept with anyone else for almost two months, Marik. There's a certain...fidelity that comes with that. I'm not without my honor, you know. And I like him."

"Do you love him? You loved me."

"As of now," Yami said, "no. I'm not trying to love anyone—he's included in that. You are a different story, from a different time in my life. It's unfair for you to try to compare my feelings. You drive me crazy, Marik Ishtar. I do love you, but we both know a relationship between the two of us wouldn't work, even if you stayed here. Your work is in Egypt—your livelihood, your home, your people, your heart. And while I acknowledge and appreciate your fealty to me, I'm afraid we live in an age where fealty is no longer valued."

Marik frowned, lowering his head and shaking it, bangs fluttering to block Yami's view of his face. "I knew you were going to say something like that. You're always doing that."

"Subject change, please. I'm still in a good mood." Yami knew all of Marik's tricks by now, and this was just how these sorts of conversations—the ones he wanted to avoid—began. He didn't want Marik to spoil his mood, and Yami didn't feel like being angry at him for doing so.

Marik's exasperated sigh floated to his ears before the Egyptian's next statement. "I love you, Yami. I really, really love you."

"I told you, I love you too. But you're much too close. Too close to what I don't want to be reminded of. It isn't in the same way, either. I'm no romantic. In my time, a man could profess his love for another without a relationship being implied. But, what do I know...?" He added passively, shrugging.

"That's not fair. It shouldn't be this easy for you to say that to me. Did you just brush me off?"

"It isn't fair," Yami responded. "And I didn't brush you off. If I had, you'd have never heard from me. This isn't the first time we've been together since we parted ways, Marik. Stop being a baby," he added frankly.

But the tomb keeper pouted. "I know, but..."

"Maybe one day," Yami said. "You never know; I might be single and over my myriad issues one day. I may stop running. If you're not taken at that time, we can give it another try. Don't hold your breath, though."

Marik shook his head. "I can't wait for you, Yami. Got too much of my life to live."

"Then we're at an impasse," he remarked casually. "I realized that the day we broke up, Marik."

The tanned man leaned against him, and Yami glanced from side to side before sliding his arm around Marik, nose brushing the fringes of his bleached hair. "It's not fair," Marik said. "We would be great together. I knew you were going to turn me down. I just wanted to try one more time. It's not like I've found anyone else."

"I'm sure that you will," Yami said. "A silly old Pharaoh isn't right for you anyway. We're too high maintenance." He chuckled.

"And you're a decent lay, too."

"Decent?" Yami rose an eyebrow.

Marik shifted, sitting up and turning in Yami's direction. "Decent," he said, and he pushed his lips to Yami's again. The ex—Pharaoh slipped into this kiss this time, however, and didn't pull away when Marik moved into his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. It was nice, actually, and for those moments Yami could understand why Mokuba was a romantic. When there were positive emotions involved, it felt quite satisfying. They sat there embracing for quite sometime, especially because it was fast becoming dark and neither one of them had anywhere to go. Marik's careful breaths had turned to short pants and in the warm air Yami had no trouble peeling back that lavender hoodie, suckling Marik's neck. The moan that wafted to his ears reminded him of the times he'd tried to forget, and his hands wafted through pale blond hair. "Atem..." Marik whimpered, voice thick as one who had been seduced, and Yami could feel himself falling for the Egyptian all over again: the late night talks, the outings, the whispers, the secret smiles. Their time was past, now, but this...this could last a little longer. Marik's fingers were on his arm, clutching. "Yami," he whispered, his grip tightening. "Yami, we should stop." The amethyst eyed man didn't need to be told twice, and in just a few seconds, he pulled away. He'd known the contact had been too much. His breathing was heavier than normal, but nothing compared to Marik—he hadn't noticed the pants turning to shallow breaths; he was almost heaving. The tomb keeper looked away from him, his arms retreating from the ex-Pharaoh and holding himself.

"You think you know what you want," Yami said softly, "but you don't." Marik nodded. "That's not who I am anymore." The tombkeeper nodded again, not meeting Yami's eyes. He waited for a moment before asking, "Are you ready to go home? I'll drop you off."

Marik simply nodded once more.

* * *

This is something I'm proud of. I've been biding my time, waiting for the moment when Yami was going to open up to me, and to the audience, and when I wrote this it just felt...right. Clearly, there are issues here, but they're issues that Yami has addressed to himself in some varying degree and he's decided upon a course of action. I'm not sure where this is going to lead from here, or if he's going to share these things with Mokuba, but we'll figure it out.

What I like most about this chapter is that it presents us with the possibility that Yami and Mokuba's relationship isn't and may never be permanent. I'm deviating from the table in this capacity, as I'm supposed to be sticking with one pairing throughout the whole ordeal, but I'm not sure whether or not I'll just do this table for my own personal reasons and not post it in the community.

This is prompt #20.


	20. Breast

It was one of those things that he understood but wasn't really interested in.

He'd been left at Mokuba's alone-he'd woken alone, looking over on the table beside the bed to see that there was a note. They'd been too sleepy when they'd gotten home to address some of the obvious issues that Mokuba seemed to have had with Marik's presence and some of the other things that were revealed at the party-Mokuba hadn't said anything, but now that they'd spent so much time together Yami could see it in his eyes. The note said that he wasn't necessarily at work but that he had to go and run some errands and he would return shortly. Shortly apparently meant "hours", because that's how long Mokuba had actually been gone—being a Kaiba, he'd written down the time of the note.

Jerk.

A naturally curious citizen of his environment, Yami began to snoop around a little. Nothing too invading, but he had very little to do but watch foreign movies for hours on end until Mokuba returned, and he didn't want to leave—there was nothing for him at the shop and if left by himself he knew that he was probably going to get himself into trouble in a place that he wasn't supposed to be. He sent Mokuba a text, asking when he was going to return, and set about exploring the apartment. Ironically, he didn't to much other than perhaps have a small snack, show and sleep here, all things that started with the letter 's' that Yami found very ominous for some reason.

Ignoring his nostalgic sense of superstition, he made the decision to go into Mokuba's closet, to see if there was any varying at all to Mokuba's leather jacket and jean combo—aside from the suits that he wore to work, of course. He found that Mokuba's closet was indeed primarily filled with suits, the jeans and shirts neatly folded and stuffed in the dresser drawers. That was it—the drawers. He carefully removed the shirts, looking to see if there were things hidden underneath, and to his surprise there were. It was like a teenage reality show. There was a capsule monster, which Yami thought was cute in a wimpy sort of way, a small blue eyes white dragon keychain and...a pair of lacy women's underwear? That stopped Yami in his tracks. They were lying on top of a 'Playboy' magazine, which Yami couldn't read other than the title and a few other words because the whole thing was written in English. It _was_ like a reality show.

Yami immediately searched the rest of the drawers for any other women's paraphernalia, but came up with only a few, small things—some change, a stash of holiday cards all written in English, some letters also in English; a small photo album that held images of Mokuba with his friends in New York. Yami didn't care about any of that shit—he wanted something juicy, like a dress or a corset or high heels. Alas, there was nothing else, and Yami's attention turned back to the magazine. It was clearly an _ecchi_ work of some sort—Yuugi had a few at home, and so did Jounouchi—and Yami found this laughable. He flipped through it in his boredom, more excited about the prospect of asking Mokuba about it and making him angry than the actual book. Yami could see how these women became...models, if he could call them that, but the book was fairly different from the ones he'd see Yuugi look through, namely the ages of the models. Some of them were older, much older than would attract attention in Japan. When he finished, he put the book back, placing the panties on top, layering the clothes carefully, smoothing out the wrinkles.

_Shit,_ he thought. _That only took twenty minutes.

* * *

_What's hilarious is that there IS a concocted story behind those things...

This is prompt #14.


	21. Intercourse

"So you had him in the park and you didn't do anything when you took him home?" Yuugi asked. They were sitting in the office room in their home, Yami on the floor with legs crossed, peering up to Yuugi as he sat in the swivel chair. "He clearly loves you. He adores you, Yami. You need to stop fucking about with Mokuba and figure something out. You know you're not serious about him."

"Actually, I just don't know what I am about him," Yami said. "And I told you, Marik and I won't work."

"Why?"

Yami shook his head, curling up into himself; changing his position on the floor to pull his knees up to his chest. "He's everything that I don't want about my life. All of the stupid, useless memories, the struggle to remember my name but lose the powers that allowed me to do so—he lives in Egypt with a crypt full of my belongings, Yuugi."

"...I get that," Yuugi said pensively, slowly, "but you know how I feel about this. He really _does_ love you. Are you just going to let that slip away. Like he said, he's not going to wait for you."

"I don't want him to. I hope that if I get around to asking him to date me again he's taken. I deserve it."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what? Realistic? His family is enslaved to guard my remains for no reason other than tradition. There are no more Pharaohs in Egypt, Yuugi. You want to know what my descendants are doing? They're common class, struggling for help from the government to get pushed through school and support their families. They don't even know their lineage. They've no idea."

"Is that what's been bothering you?"

"No—you've missed the whole point."

"Well, I like Mokuba, Yami," Yuugi concluded, "but I think that he's not the one for you. As cute as it is to see you two together, you don't love him—there's no attachment."

"You say this as though I have a deadline to settle down with another human being. Having a family is not only an impossibility for me—and you know why—but it's not a goal of mine. We both know what I'm going to be doing for the rest of my life—using what connections I have to keep this shop in business. That's all. When Gramps can't man the shop anymore and you're off doing your thing—which might include making a family—I'll still be here. Yami Mutoh the ghost, in the shop which sells the cards that have always defined his very being."

"Don't be so morbidly philosophical. You're pouting. Stop it," Yuugi ordered. "Look, do you have feelings for Mokuba or not?"

"I honestly don't know. I really don't." Yami shrugged. "I'm not worrying about love right now, Yuugi. When I think about it I always screw it up. That's why we're not together—that's not why I'm with Marik."

"You didn't screw it up," Yuugi said. His body seized for a moment, realizing what Yami was referring to specifically. "Shut up."

Yami sighed. "I hate feeling all emotionally vulnerable like this," he said, and he truly, honestly did. "I couldn't help it, though; having Marik in my arms was too much like...like how things used to be. He was so warm, and he wanted me—I could feel it. But we weren't going to get back together and I fucked it up like everything. If I hadn't been so zealous we could have stayed that way for almost an hour. I would have liked that." Yami's arms crossed over his torso and he hugged himself, feeling uncomfortable with how he knew he looked. However, if there was anyone who he could be vulnerable with, it was Yuugi, and that curbed some of the embarrassment.

His counterpart frowned. "You love him."

"I told him I did. That's not the reason why we can't be together."

"You're talking in circles—you said that already."

Yami sighed again, feeling even more foolish. He fell onto his back, spreading out on the floor. "This is stupid."

"I agree. Call Mokuba and break it off and then call Marik and tell him you'll get back together if it's not too late."

"I can't."

"Yami!"

"I can't, Yuugi!" Yami roared, sitting up—and then sliding back down when he realized how loud he was being.

The little one glared at him for longer than a few moments, and then his expression dissolved into a smal. "You like Mokuba, don't you?"

Yami made a face, although he wasn't sure if Yuugi could see him from above. "I wouldn't be sleeping with him if I didn't like him."

"That's not true at all," Yuugi pointed out. "I can think of some examples. Anyway, I'd like to bring up the fact that you _like_ like him."

"That phrase didn't even make sense. You repeated a word to give it a second meaning. Words don't work like that."

"You do, don't you?"

"I like what we have," Yami admitted.

"I like what _we _have," Yuugi said, "but that's beyond the point. You _like_ him. A lot."

"And what makes you think that?"

"The nights you spend over there, the fact that you won't get back together with Marik—you almost cracked today."

"I did not. I know where my limits are with Marik."

"Do you think that you could love him? Mokuba?"

Yami rolled his eyes. "Potentially, Yuugi, I could love anyone."

"I think you can."

The ex-Pharaoh made another face. "...good for you?"

"You should date him," Yuugi said. "Like, go out with him."

"We go out," Yami said defensively.

"To a non-hangout spot," Yuugi said. "There's a lovely restaurant in downtown Domino..."

"We're not dating," Yami said. "We're just not."

"You could. You should."

Yami faltered for a second, knowing that it was a bad idea making decisions when he wasn't feeling himself. But Yuugi had always looked out for him, and there was never a piece of advice from him that had steered him wrong in any way. "...do you think so?"

"That depends on you, Yami. Are you ready to get over Marik and get into something else?"

"I'm over Marik."

"You're a fucking liar," Yuugi spat, laughing. "You've rationalized not being with him, but you're not over him."

"I think I know my own thoughts, Yuugi. I'm over him."

"If you say so. Anyway, on an only somewhat related subject, if you don't want to be old and alone for the rest of your life I think you should date Mokuba. After all, he's not Marik...or me. He's unrelated, right? Doesn't guard your dusty old Egyptian shit all day?"

"Ha ha."

"Think about it though. I think it's time for your relationship to be about more than fucking, Yami."

"I don't just fuck him—I listen to him and talk to him and give him advice; we talk pretty often, actually." Jealously, Yami added, "and what about you? I don't see you around here wooing anyone."

"Your age is showing," Yuugi retorted, "but I am dating a girl."

"And I haven't met her? Are you sure you're not angry with me?" Yami wasn't really concerned about that, but he clearly remembered Yuugi throwing a similar tantrum when he found out about the ex-Pharaoh's escapades with Mokuba. In fact, he also recalled a certain evening he had to sleep outside on the couch...

"Why would I be angry at you?"

"I want to meet her."

"Soon," Yuugi promised.

* * *

Alrighty then! I was in a rush when I posted this, so there weren't any notes at first, but here you go:

I like open!Yami and vulnerable!Yami. I just do. I've been waiting for a long time during these prompts to actually note that he's changing in this way, and this prompt just came out like that, and it felt natural and not too soon. Hopefully things will only get more interesting from here. A couple of the prompts will force me to make a decision about who's going to be involved specifically with Yami, and with Mokuba, but I'm undecided as of now. I undertook these prompts of my own free will and without signing up officially, and so I don't necessarily HAVE to adhere strictly to the Mokuba/Yami pairing. There are a number of people I could end this story with Yami getting together with at this point-as, to be honest, the series has always been a bit more about him than Mokuba, I'm sorry-but I'm unsure of what to do...and then there are a few people that have to be revealed, and I have to think about time jumps, etc...I dunno which direction I'm going to go in...

This is prompt #35.


	22. Toys

He wasn't sure what to feel now, just being friends—not being fuckbuddies or anything like that. He had fallen for her, in a way, and although he had dated other people after her—good, long, fruitful relationships—he had always found himself thinking about being her boyfriend, the possibility of such an outcome. Having the right to take that smooth skin and lithe frame under his command. To be able to say that it was no one else's.

He couldn't understand why she was so attractive to him, light brown hair streaked with blended red. It wasn't her looks that made her special—there were plenty of other women who weren't her but resembled her. For the longest time, Mokuba had wanted to claim her as his own. But he couldn't. He was numb now, unfeeling even as she sent him a photo of herself reclining in the lap of her current beau. He was too used to her sharing herself with others—he would never be able to imagine that righteous indignation at telling another guy to back down because they were too close to her, and he didn't like it; it would feel rude and out of place.

And he was repeating the same thing with Yami. They were already friends, and so he'd thought it would be okay. And it was, to some degree: what they had was very... _okay_. But then again, it wasn't. Why were the really steamy relationships those that he couldn't get a grasp on? He wouldn't have minded having something with Yami, but the line was drawn and it was difficult to overstep that boundary now. He had agreed to it, signed his name on that line and now the decision was practically final. Yami didn't seem interested in a relationship of any kind, and Mokuba wasn't going to push it. It really _was_ okay. He still cherished those nights and mornings of passion, those afternoons of texting and the intermittent calls. Each moment was memorable, each session valuable, each whisper or scream a treasure.

Perhaps that was the problem. He shouldn't place value on those things because they weren't _his_. They were only being loaned to him. They were only _his_ for the moment.

And Mokuba was afraid. He didn't want to be so caught up in open relationships that he would miss his opportunity to _know_—when he should settle, when he should fight for that person that he wanted to be dearest to him.

* * *

Trying to get out of this slump I'm in, folks. It's very annoying, and school is just going to get in the way...

This is prompt #24.


	23. Slick

"I love it when you style your hair like that." Mokuba poked is head out of the bathroom, most of his hair sleek the way that—apparently—Yami liked it. "Is that how you do that? What is that?"

Mokuba couldn't help but laugh. "These? They're flat-irons."

"What do they do?" Yami asked, sauntering to the door with a sort of childish curiosity that Mokuba had never previously seen from him. "I mean, how do they straighten it?"

The younger Kaiba blinked—he had never been asked the question before. "The plates on the inside heat up when you plug them in," he explained, removing his hair from the contraption before holding them out so that Yami could see. "It's really, really hot. I put my hair between both sides, one piece at a time, and the heat flattens my hair as I pull it through."

"So you're burning your hair?"

"I hope not," Mokuba laughed. "It's just enough heat to make it flat. You _can_ burn your hair accidentally, though, if you're not careful. It goes up to four hundred degrees."

Yami smirked. "Well, now I know the secret."

Mokuba shrugged. "I guess." He paused for a moment, and then couldn't keep himself from asking, "Do you really like my hair?"

Yami rolled his eyes, but his voice didn't turn dry. "Makes me want to sex you." He laughed instead of adding more to that sentence—he probably knew that Mokuba was fishing for a compliment or two and was refusing to indulge him.

But Mokuba was content with the laughter; the sound was music to his ears. He couldn't help but smile, as Yami was rarely playful when it came to sex—it wounded as though there was the option to refuse without severe consequences this time. "I'll have to take a rain check on that. You know I'm getting ready for a meeting." He knew how Yami was—if he let the former Pharaoh continue begging he'd soon try to physically persuade him—and Mokuba wasn't sure he couldn't guarantee his abstinence, even if it cost him his job... "I promise when I come back," he said, pausing to straighten another section of hair, "we can fuck like rabbits, okay?"

"In that case," Yami answered, smile growing wider, "I eagerly await your return."

Mokuba, about to resume with his hair, found his pause delayed a few more seconds as he noticed Yami's elegance in answering; Yami had never answered him quite that politely. Not about sex. "...okay, Yami."

"Just don't have too much fun working. I don't want you to get tired out."

The chuckle escaped Mokuba's lips before he could stop it. "Okay."

* * *

The funny thing about this is that Yami really, honestly didn't know what a flat-iron was. I know that Japanese hair is usually stated to be stereotypically slick and easy to manage, not only because of genetics but also their majority fish diet. However, they still use flat-irons. I've asked. Oh, Yami, what are we going to do with you?

This is prompt #61.


	24. Satin

No, Yami's eyes weren't deceiving him. That square package lying in the middle of their room—it was what he thought it was.

Sheets.

It wasn't often that Yami slept at home now-he was usually at the shop only during the day time hours, or while Mokuba was working. "_Yuugi_..." he called, his voice stretching with every syllable to accommodate his growing curiosity.

His other half was there in just a moment, as always. "What's wrong, Yami? Can't find something? I did do some cleaning while you were gone..."

"Are those new sheets?" Yami's eyes shot to his slighter companion in enough time to catch the creeping blush that swallowed his features.

Yuugi was already looking as though he were on the defense. "...Look, I'm just—um..."

Yami sat himself down on their carpeted floor, fingers picking at the plastic wrap, eyes scanning the image of the bed displayed on the label. Something caught his eye. "Ooh. Satin." His eyes glistened with his thoughts, and he was sure that Yuugi would be able to read them without help.

Yuugi turned even more red, if it were possible. He sighed, his hands rubbing across his face. "Yes. _Yes._ I'm having company over! Stop badgering me!

Yami raised an eyebrow at his confession. "Company that you're trying to _impress_?"

Yuugi wouldn't look at him. "Obviously. Stop being a dick."

"I'm not—I'm _not_," he said, trying to reassure both Yuugi and himself. His other half could be so timid sometimes. "I just wanted to wish you good luck, is all. Ra, why are you so nervous?"

The man opposite him bit his lip. "Because I'm a grown man sharing a room, maybe? Because I still live with my Grandfather? Because I work at a game shop?"

The questions caught Yami off guard. "What?"

"She's going to think I'm...lazy," Yuugi said, all traces of his blush gone, emotion caught in his throat and being carried by every word he spoke. Of all things, Yami hadn't been expecting a breakdown, but he knew it was coming when Yuugi plopped down on the floor next to him. The suddenness of the change of mood was something that Yami couldn't immediately cope with. They sat for a moment or two silence before he spoke.

"Yuugi," Yami said, dropping the jovial tone, "Why would—" he struggled for a moment. "...he...? She...?"

"She," Yuugi supplied.

"Why would she think terrible of you for the way that you live? You're _not_ lazy, Yuugi. You're a man who could go out on his own if he wanted but honestly stays at home to help his grandfather. You have your own car! You're putting yourself through school and at the same time helping to manage a retail store! That's a lot. It's a heavy burden! And at the same time you take care of Gramps and make sure that he's got all of his medicine, you take him to the hospital if there's the slightest irregularity—you're a wonderful grandson. Whoever this woman is, she could only hope to find another person who is capable of taking care of her just as well." Yami's hands had found their way to Yuugi's shoulders, forcing the slighter to look at him as he spoke, to see that he meant every word. He leaned in, their foreheads touching, and he did something that he hadn't done in a long time—he hugged his hikari. "She's lucky to have gotten your attention, in my opinion."

Yuugi shook his head, a breathy giggle escaping him. "It's the other way around..."

"And I'm glad that you feel that way about her," Yami said. "How long have you been seeing each other?"

"A few months. But I've known her for a while. We just—I wasn't in the right place. She's been asking for a long time."

Yami nodded, trying to communicate that he understood. "Is she a classmate of yours?" Yuugi shook his head, and when he didn't offer her name or any information about her, Yami decided not to push it. "Whoever she is, she had better know that you put this much thought into her making an appearance. When is she coming over?"

"A few days from now." Yuugi breath tickled Yami's cheeks as he spoke, and the latter couldn't help but smile.

"Would you like me gone from the house after work?"

Dark eyelashes heavy with moisture blinked, looking away from Yami. "Please."

"Well, I'm going to need to know what day is it so that I don't stumble in while you two are—"

"Yami!"

"Yuugi. You bought new sheets." His eyes scanned the package again. "...does that say _'onyx'_?"

"It doesn't matter what it says!" Yuugi pouted again, and all that Yami could think about was that he was so cute. Had he despaired over impressing him like this? It was weird, in a good way, watching Yuugi go through this again with someone else.

"I'll tell you when we decide. She had a busy schedule because she's taking a lot of classes right now, but I'll let you know. I promise."

Yami didn't approve of this extra measure of secrecy, but he didn't want to argue about it, either. "Alright. Now stop moping around. What else do you have to do today?"

* * *

This is prompt #3.


	25. Dominant

"I'm surprised you came to call, Mokuba," Seto said. It was strange going to visit Seto in a house that belonged to him.

"I guess so," Mokuba replied awkwardly.

"I assume there's a reason you're here."

"I wanted to—um—go out with you or something." Mokuba could sometimes be suave or playful in a way that he knew was disarming—it didn't work on Seto. It wouldn't work on Seto, he'd realized shortly after returning to Domino and now he wasn't sure how to ask this of him. "You know, something like a movie or a bar, or..."

As usual, Seto got straight to the point. "...You've been blowing me off for weeks, Mokuba," he said, rifling through his papers, eyes perusing the pages.

When they had been younger, he'd gone through this song and dance so many times Mokuba knew now that there was no use in lying. "I know," was all that he could think of to say. He gave up on adding any flair or flavor to this conversation. He _was_ talking to Seto, after all.

But his brother had a response. "Yes. Why don't we have dinner? I haven't eaten yet."

Mokuba resisted the urge to roll his eyes—of course Seto wouldn't have eaten by midnight; it just made sense. "I want to smoke," Mokuba added aloud to the conversation, to save himself from his budding wisecracks. He could already feel his brother trying to take control of the outing, and Mokuba knew that any night built purely on Seto's tastes would end badly for them. "So we'll have to leave the house."

Seto's eyes slid from his paperwork to land squarely on Mokuba, and he met his older brother's gaze; _Too much effort involved in this_, he decided at that moment. It was too difficult to make sure that his returning glance wasn't too intense or lacking, and he looked away, eyes studying the craftsmanship of Seto's desk.

"There's a dinner party on Thursday," Seto diverged, and Mokuba could tell by the tone of voice that he used that it was work related. "Did you receive the invitation via email?"

"Yes," Mokuba answered. This, he was used to: Seto was always about work, even when he wasn't at work. "I made sure that I RSVP'd."

"I'm going," he said. "Most of our clients will be there. They'll be looking for you. The ones you've been assigned seem to like you." It was definitely a compliment. Affection and work didn't go together in Seto's mind, so Mokuba wasn't surprised at how the stale statement clung to his ears.

"I'll be there."

"Do you have to smoke? Is it necessary?"

_Back to tonight_. "No, but I don't want to have dinner in the house just in case."

"What's wrong with the house?"

"Nothing, Seto. But we always eat here and you never go out."

"I do, just not often."

"Not with me, you mean," Mokuba said, and the hand he'd seen clutching Seto's flickered into his field of vision. He supposed that he was jealous; he wanted nothing but to spend time comfortably with his brother, and another person had obtained that lost camaraderie.

"And that's referring to...?" Seto asked. He sat his paperwork down flat on the table and swiveled his chair just a smidget to his right, left hand supporting his chin as he looked into Mokuba's eyes, cool and collected as always.

And that coolness sent Mokuba scrambling for a reply. But he hid it his initial reaction, commanding his features to freeze in his expression of nonchalance. "I can't remember the last time we went out, even before I left." _Had nothing to do with the real issue_, he chided himself. He was such a coward.

Seto sighed. "If it's something you want that badly, I'll take you out."

"You don't have to take me," Mokuba replied. "Just come _with _me."

"Mokuba, what do you want to do? It doesn't make sense for us to go separately."

The younger Kaiba realized that he had slipped into passive—aggressiveness; he was being obtuse. He sighed to match Seto's, trying to check himself and his word choice with a bit more precision. "I'll go with you," Mokuba said, smiling. "I want to talk to you. I haven't had the chance to ask you what you've done since I've been gone—and since I've come back."

Seto raised an eyebrow. "Nothing too different from what you remember," he said somewhat guardedly, and that was _his_ slip. the CEO stood. "I hate sitting at the desk when I'm not working," he explained. "Let's head out." Mokuba had already remembered this, and by the time Seto had finished speaking the long—haired man was already on his feet. Seto delicately reached for the phone on his desk and within seconds was calling his on—call driver, whom Mokuba was sure felt unaccustomed to leaving this late in the evening. Seto's voice took on a lighter quality as he voiced the details of their excursion, unsure of the location that they were headed to but that the limo was to be by the front door in fewer than seven minutes and that Seto and Mokuba Kaiba—not a guest, which was important—were the passengers. His older brother didn't quite smile, but Mokuba knew the expression for what it was. "Let's go then," Seto repeated, and they walked through the halls of Seto's Mansion. Mokuba's boots made a _click_-ing sound against the tiled floors they crossed, and he was sure that his steps had never sounded louder than they did just that moment, and Seto's glances back at him only confirmed it.

Once they were outside, the limo was not quite there to meet them and for reasons Mokuba himself was sure that he would never understand, he felt the craving for a cigarette. Trying to make conversation, he asked his older brother, "Why do you hate smoking so much?" He didn't quite remember Seto having such an aversion to it before, and the answer would help to fill the small gap of time.

"I don't hate it," Seto said, and that was that. There was a breeze blowing that made the air a bit more chilly than Mokuba liked, and when that heat was passing through his lips things were a bit more bearable. To his surprise, Seto added to his previous answer, "It's not something that I was expecting you to come back doing." Mokuba opened his mouth to say something in the half-pause of silence that followed, but it appeared that Seto was attempting to make conversation of his own. "How did you start? Stressful semester?"

Mokuba thought of how he should phrase his answer. "Not really. I just asked to try a friend's and then I started buying my own." He didn't like how that sounded by itself, so he thought he might spice it up with something a bit more positive. "When I first got there I was actually expecting a lot of pressure about...well, everything, but most of the things I do now I've tried myself just out of curiosity and liked it. Most people were very supportive—they weren't the peer—pressure type at all."

The limo arrived, and Mokuba felt like a V.I.P. entering it—he'd used to get into a limo three or four times in one day—he'd been Americanized in a lot of ways, and there only celebrities did that as regularly as he used to. What did Seto do? Nothing but run a company that loaned out equipment and technology that had been originally developed toward enhancing the experience of playing a card game. Not that it wasn't important, but it was weird, different, and now Mokuba felt as though he was being spoiled.

It didn't take long for Mokuba to direct the driver to downtown Domino, and he appeared to be glad to drive somewhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity. "Do you even have any idea where we're going?" Seto asked after perhaps fifteen minutes of silence. To be honest, Mokuba hadn't made up his mind about where to go; he didn't really know Seto as a person and he didn't want to take the "Great Seto Kaiba" to a location that he would feel was beneath him. On the other hand, Mokuba didn't feel like walking into a five star restaurant with his usual jacket-and-jeans combo.

"To be honest? Not really," Mokuba said. Seto's expression seemed almost insulted, so he amended, "Well, I know a few places in the area and I'm trying to decide on my options. I want you to enjoy whatever we do." All Seto could really do was nod. "Is there anything you're in the mood for? To eat?"

Seto sat back in his seat, smirking. "What do you normally do with _Yami_?" he asked.

Was that a hint of jealousy Mokuba detected? "Just stuff. Pool, clubs, eating. That's all." He hoped that Seto wasn't going to make this about the two of them—it would ironic in a way he wasn't sure he could handle.

"I'm serious." The smirk hadn't removed itself from Seto's face, and he added to it by crossing his arms.

Mokuba couldn't hold in his chuckle. "So was I. That's what we do."

"Hm."

When he had the driver pull over, it was in front of a lounge—the same one where he and Yami had played pool. Mokuba was fond of the place because it was small, quaint; not to mention that Yami had tried his first jello shots there. He felt a little bad for taking Seto to a place that he and Yami had gone, but...well, he would get over it. This was his night with his brother, and he wasn't going to let something stupid like that ruin it.

* * *

Okay. I've officially given up on whatever this was supposed to be. I really hated how this turned out because the internet decided to thwart me by eating my original post.

In any case, what we have here is Mokuba trying to prove to himself that he can handle his brother on his own, which we see here is no easy task? How did this outing turn out? We'll find out in another post because I'm sure in the hell not going to try to redo my entire conversation here. Fuck this piece.

Btw, this is piece #28, my new favorite number to hate.


	26. Lube

"I got a package for you!" Yuugi skipped happily into the shop from the back stairs, slamming the door shut and jarring the older woman who had been perusing cards for the last half hour.

Yami, of course, was alert at the desk, waiting for her to decide on what booster pack she wanted for her son. He had already asked her _three times_ if she wanted help, if she knew what sort of deck her son had or anything helpful. "No," she didn't know any of that information and "No," she didn't want any help.

Yuugi's voice turned into a croak as he noticed her jump, and his voice immediately sunk to a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'll come back later," he said.

"It's fine," Yami said, his eyes on the woman. She was going to have to give up some time. She knew nothing about the game at all—it was obvious enough already. "Why didn't it come to the front."

Yuugi had already guessed what he was thinking. "No, it's mail for _you_, not for the shop!" Yami held out his hand for the package, and it was hanging there for quite a few seconds on its own. When he turned around to look at Yuugi, his other half added, "It's from Marik!"

Yami rolled his eyes. "Marik is a _person_, Yuugi, just like you and me. His packages aren't special, either. Hand it here." As Yuugi did so, the lady-customer decided that she was finally going to pick a pack. As she approached the counter, Yuugi hastily took the package back, deft fingers beginning to open the envelope to see what was inside as Yami rung up the pack. "Ma'am," Yami said, remembering to be polite,"does your son play this game often?"

"Hours," she quipped. "It's very annoying. But I know he likes it, and seems to take strategy so I want to keep his mind sharp."

Yami held in a sigh. "Yes, well it's just that one pack usually isn't nearly enough to be helpful to a deck. You have a better chance of a better or more rare card if you buy more than one pack. Now we have a sale on packs this week—3 for 1000 yen. The special saves—"

"Why isn't one enough? Doesn't it have just as much chance of getting a rare card as the others? Should I go choose another deck?"

Yuugi began to snicker, and the woman looked at him indignantly. He blushed, and began babbling apologies immediately. "It's this package...I..." he retreated to the stairs instead of bothering to continue.

"It does," Yami answered her question, ignoring Yuugi entirely, "but you have a better chance overall if you buy more packs."

"Well if I did that," she squawked. "I'd be buying every pack in the store! If I wanted to spend that kind of money I'd go pay a bill!"

Yami's smile was faltering, he could feel it. "You don't have to buy every pack. I'm merely suggesting that you take advantage of our 3 pack offer."

"I came to the register with one pack. I'd go get three if I wanted three."

Yami didn't say another thing, simply ringing up the single pack and completing the transaction. He eyeballed the woman as she haughtily exited the shop. He hoped her son was a delinquent. "Fuck," he swore, "This is why I hate working with people."

Laughter burst out of the stairwell, and Yami was not in the mood to be laughed. "Yuugi, what the fuck are you doing?"

The laughter continued, and it was obvious that it wasn't going to stop any time soon. Yuugi stepped back into the shop, Yami's package in his hands, still partially covered in the paper packaging. "You...You..." and Yuugi's speech degenerated back into laughter.

"It wasn't that funny," Yami snapped, snatching his mail from Yuugi's hands—and immediately hid the bottle underneath the counter. What the fuck _is _this?" He glared at Yuugi, sure that this was a joke that his counterpart was in on. "You brought _this _into the shop?"

"You gotta be kidding me!" Yuugi squeaked back. "I had nothing to do with it...it's hilarious, though!" And he was back to laughing.

"I'm going to kill Marik."

* * *

Alrighty then. An obvious, fun piece meant to take up a prompt and also brainstorm to get my mind going on more of them.

This is prompt #4.


	27. Lips

It was a dangerous situation, this was. Yuugi's eyes were widening second by second, and it looked as though he were caught between screaming in Yami's face or pouting. Yami reached upward to grasp Yuugi's shoulder, shaking him.

This was only going to go one of two ways—fuck or die.

They had been arguing about the _girl—_the one that Yami hadn't seen yet and was growing impatient about. Yuugi felt he could hide anyone as much as he'd wanted and Yami felt as though he was being lied to, in a sense; Yuugi hadn't given him a real reason for not introducing her other than that he wasn't sure if they were serious or not. "I'm trying not to fuck this up, Yami, and you're not helping," Yuugi had said. When Yami had asked what that had meant, Yuugi had the audacity to imply that hehad been taking up Yuugi's time with all of his issues. That wasn't true at all! Granted, he had need to talk to Yuugi about Mokuba...and Marik, but he hadn't been taking advantage of anyone at all! Then Yuugi retracted his statement, said that he'd been overreacting to everything lately, and Yami had agreed.

Then Yami had overstepped his boundaries; he'd assured Yuugi that everything would be fine and that he was there for encouragement whenever he needed it; that Mokuba wasn't so serious that he wouldn't have time. He'd hugged Yuugi, trying his best to impart the feelings that he hadn't been able to put into words—all the mushy stuff, the completeness of his feelings for his other half. And then he ruined it.

It wasn't something that he'd meant to do at all.

They were hugging, one moment, and the next, Yami's lips were ghosting over Yuugi's, catching his eyes, holding them. He had dealt with this feeling for years—that spark in the pit of his stomach when Yuugi was feeling some extreme emotion and their eyes were locked. It was something, deep inside, that pulled Yami to soothe Yuugi's fears, his uneasiness. And he'd screwed it up with a kiss that tasted as sweet as honey, their lips moving together, stuck on each other as though they'd been coated in it, tongues moving as though to clean every drop. Yuugi moaned, just a little, hands gripping Yami's arms. This wasn't the same as the sleepover, where they'd both known that there were no strings attached, that it was a dare. There was something latched onto this, something old and dusty that had no business clinging to either of them.

He should have stopped then, when he had realized what he was doing. He hadn't.

Yuugi was the one who had to pull away, and he'd pushed Yami, hard to make sure that they were broken apart. And then, as Yami had tried to gather his wits—he was now on the floor—Yuugi had started yelling. About how "this" was "too hard" and "goddamn it, Yami, can't you keep your hands to yourself?" which Yami decided not to answer for his own benefit. He had tried to work out an explanation in his head for what had just happened, but he couldn't, _it had just happened_ and there wasn't a thing that he could have done to take it back. Yami had stayed on the ground on until Yuugi's tirade had ended, and when he'd risen Yuugi had looked as though he were going to either cry or go completely fucking crazy. So Yami shook him.

"I didn't mean it," Yami told him. "I didn't mean to—"

"You are a fucking liar!" Yuugi said, and his eyes pooled with tears. It didn't make him seem any less threatening.

There was a knock on the door. "Yes?" Yami answered, as it was obvious that he was calmer of the two of them.

"Are you boys okay?" sounded Grandpa's voice. "Are you two yelling? If I can hear ya, you're talking very loudly."

"We're fine," Yami said hastily. "Sorry about the noise, Grandpa."

Yuugi jerked away from Yami. "_You're a fucking liar_," he hissed, his voice lower and somehow even more venomous. "You...you fucking jerk Marik around because he loves you; you jerk Mokuba around—me, too, Yami?"

"No," he answered firmly, clenching his fists. "That's not—"

Yuugi wiped tears from his eyes, sitting on his bed. "I'm not going to sit here and take this, Yami!"

Yami took a deep breath, gesturing with his hands. "Just calm down..."

"I am _not _going to calm down! You fucking kissed me!" Yuugi's voice was climbing toward yelling again. "We decided that we weren't going to do this! You weren't going to torture yourself with this! You know, _you're not the only one being tortured here_!" Yami opened his mouth to speak but the look on Yuugi's face had prevented him from doing so. "I know you don't give a shit about your life Yami, but I'm trying to make something of mine and I can't keep going back and forth because I'm in love with you! I have a girlfriend, and she's kind and understanding, and she _likes _you, goddamn it! She likes you! You want to know why I don't bring her around? Because I'm afraid she'll fucking see the way that I look at you and how we interact. I don't want that! I don't have a million suitors, Yami! I'm not a Pharaoh, I'm not charismatic. It's taken years for me to get over everything that's happened—just the same as you. We broke up because _you _wanted to, because I wasn't good enough for _you_; and you can't just horn in and use me because I didn't go fucking everyone in town!"

That hurt. In more places than he'd expected and not as much as it should have in others. There were so many rebuttals that he didn't know where to begin. "...I never said that you weren't—"

"You did, Yami," Yuugi sniffed, appearing to be over most of his tears and finally calming down from his tantrum. "You said it when you couldn't give me a better reason for breaking up with me. I get it. You wanted something better for me than to be in my "shell" or whatever you called it back then. But you're still a jerk. If we're broken up, we're going to stay broken up. I'm not Marik. I'm not going to chase after you, and it's not fair for you to manipulate me the way that you did."

"I wasn't trying to, Yuugi." Yami's fists were clenched. There were a few good things that he would have liked to get off of his own chest as well, since Yuugi was yelling; but he had a feeling that it would best wait until later. This wasn't his moment.

"Not meaning to isn't good enough anymore," Yuugi said. "You need to get over yourself and then get over me. I really like this girl, Yami. I really, really like this girl. And I could love her."

"So the guilt trip route, then," Yami said bitterly.

"I'm not guilt tripping anyone," Yuugi retorted. "I'm telling you something that a lot of people should have told you a long time ago. This isn't about you. It hasn't been about you for the last six or seven years."

Salt in the wound wasn't helping at all, and Yami was creeping closer to his limit on control of himself. He had been trying to take Yuugi's feelings into consideration, dammit! He had admitted that he's screwed things up this time! It wasn't his fault that they'd shared a body, or that they'd grown so close. It hadn't been his fucking idea to make the damned items; he hadn't set this wheel in motion! "I was trying to apologize," Yami said through gritted teeth. "There's nothing else I can do about it right now. But you know what? _You're _a jerk for going for the low blow. Yeah, it's not about me! It's not about the fucking Pharaoh for a change! I know that, and I didn't share my fucking problems with you just so that you could throw them back in my fucking face when you got angry or frustrated. I wasn't _manipulating_ you, Yuugi. I got caught in the moment, like your drunken ass did when we were at the truth-or-dare party, and I haven't said a word about that—but I'm the bad guy, I'm making it about m—"

"Yami," Yuugi tried to interrupt, growling, "you—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Yami bellowed. He wanted to make sure that he was heard. "I listened to you. Shut it! Don't you dare act as though you've been struggling for years without any help." Now that he seemed to have Yuugi's attention, he lowered his voice. "I know I have issues, and I'm actually trying to work on some of them, but never have I been dishonest about how I feel to you. Never have I hidden or locked anything away from you. You know when I'm upset, you know when I'm doing great—you're the fucking liar here, waiting until now to throw all of your anger on me for a kiss that you _enjoyed_ that was a mistake and didn't mean anything. I'm not going to molest you just to screw things up, and unless I do some stupid shit like that you've got no right to pin the fate of your relationship with her on me. I have nothing to do with how you treat each other. We're both struggling here, and I can at least say that I've been completely honest. I screwed this up, I know. I admit it, and it's going to take a while to fix. But you? You just—how long have you been lying to me about how you felt, Yuugi?" his voice was less angry now, and more hurt. He shook his head. "I can't be here right now." He turned away, heading toward his closet to grab a jacket. He angrily threw down everything in his way until he'd gotten to the one he wanted.

When he finished with the closet, he could see it on Yuugi's face that he was regretting some of his words. Yuugi was always like that. But he'd said quite a few things that he couldn't take back, and Yami wasn't in the mood to make up. Yuugi's lips, the ones that he'd just kissed, formed his name.

Yami ignored them. He wanted to say something insulting on his way out but he felt that honey on his lips, holding them closed.

* * *

Yeah...I'm on a fucking roll or something like that. I don't even know where this came from. I guess I was really angry...I am typing this at four thirty in the morning, so I guess that would make sense.

This is prompt #51.


	28. Wrong

It was a strange thing to discover after a nearly flawless day of work. Statistically, Seto's words from the other night had been true—the clients and even other PR personnel _did _seem to like him more than some of the other KaibaCorp agents. Mokuba hadn't been sure how to take such a thing when verified by an actual presentation—but Seto was thinking of loaning him out for seminars for other companies. Mokuba had declined this suggestion. That wasn't going to stop his brother however, who called just to ask him to re-consider the opportunity. It was official. He was now a pawn in Seto's corporate game of Chess. Despite their progress some ways as brothers, work as far as Seto was concerned was completely different.

Those issues couldn't be the furthest from his mind when he arrived home. Yami was sitting at the curb in front of his apartment building, like a lost cat. Smoking, and Mokuba didn't want to count the filters on the ground around him. Yami was shaking his head even as he looked up to notice Mokuba's arrival.

Stray cat indeed.

"Yami," Mokuba asked, trying to ignore the fact that something was terribly wrong. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as it seemed? "What are you doing here? You could have called." The man below simply shook his head. "Fuck," Mokuba declared. "Come on. You're not drunk, are you?"

"No," Yami answered, and he appeared to be telling the truth. Mokuba gave Yami another once-over just to be sure. His hands were shaking, but Mokuba was sure that his would be, too, if he'd had that many cigarettes in one sitting. "I need to talk to you." Mokuba wasn't sure how this was going to play out, but he pulled Yami up and ushered him inside.

He couldn't ever remember talking to Yami in that sort of mood. He wasn't sure how to deal with it. "Well, since you haven't been drinking, do you _want_something? You look like hell. Hell, Yami."

"Not in the mood," was Yami's response. "I need to talk to you."

"Alright, I get it. But I just got home from work. Can I at least get my suit off?" Yami didn't reply, so Mokuba took that as a yes—he wanted to at least be comfortable if he was going to do this. Tossing his keys into a nearby chair, he made his way into his room and promptly closed the door to undress; he didn't think he could handle those sullen eyes staring at him from the den. Sighing, he mulled over how he was going to deal with the situation. _And today had been such a good day, too._

Emerging from his room in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, he settled himself comfortably into his beanbag chair across the room from Yami. He noticed for the first time that Yami was wearing a jacket, hand fumbling through a pack of cigarettes. "Yami," Mokuba called, trying to sound as nice and understanding as he wanted to be. "What's wrong?"

"A plethora of things," Yami said, mumbling.

"Yami, I think you've had enough cigarettes. Put the box down. I'll get you a drink, if you want."

There was a sigh as he put the pack away into his pocket, and Yami leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. "I kissed him."

Mokuba's face remained stoic, but that wasn't exactly what he'd been expected to hear. "What?" It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but there so many questions. Who? And what did the kiss mean to Yami—it wasn't like they were together. The image of Yami intertwined with a certain ex came to mind, and Mokuba immediately regretted hearing what he'd just heard.

"I...I fucked up," Yami whispered; Mokuba's chest clenched. Hearing those deep tones at such a low volume was disturbing to say the least. "...and I-I kissed Yuugi."

"...alright," Mokuba managed. He was relieved more than anything else—different ex. Less offensive ex, at least. There just wasn't much else for him to add—they'd kissed at the truth-or-dare sleepover; this was somehow worse? Then it hit him—the full implication of what was being said. "...does Yuugi...does he want to get back together?"

All Yami did was shake his head. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and Mokuba felt some object drop into the pit of his stomach. "I just—It's—I can't figure out how to explain this to you."

"Start from the beginning, Yami," He wasn't really sure how to take this. Considering his relationship with Yuugi, were things really as big of a deal as Yami was making it out to be? On the other hand, he wasn't typically that dramatic about things.

Yami looked confused, as though he himself were trying to figure out what it was that he was trying to say. "Yuugi has a girlfriend, now," Yami began. "And—"

"Oh," Mokuba said. Hadn't he heard about that? "I can see why that would be a problem, then?"

"I didn't kiss him on _purpose_."

Mokuba scoffed. "Really?"

Yami sneered, although he was too down to do anything else. "I'm serious."

"So am I," was Mokuba's retort. "You don't just _kiss _someone you don't want to."

"I didn't mean to."

Mokuba sighed. "...but you wanted to." Yami leaned back into his chair, hands gripping his knees. "Do you want to get back together with Yuugi?" Mokuba asked. It wasn't his business at all, really—but it had something to do with him, or _them_, so he figured that asking couldn't hurt. He would rather be prepared.

Yami shook his head again. "...all I could think about after I left was that you would be...unhappy with this turn of events."

At this, Mokuba wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. "Yami, you can do whatever you want. You and Yuugi have history—I get that."

Yami's head shaking was more vigorous. "No. _No._" He'd said it twice, and it sounded strange without a third to accompany the rest of his words. Mokuba was silent, waiting for Yami to finish his thought. "I want this to stop. I'm tired of this." It was sad, seeing Yami in this state—so...vulnerable. "There's this...this feeling, Mokuba. It pulls me to him. It always has. We thought it would be easier if we were together, but..." He was talking about Yuugi. It was startling, knowing that there was some sort of _magic _that bound the two of them together, but Yami sounded as though he wanted to escape it.

"It's that complicated?"

"I can't be with Yuugi," Yami said, predicting where Mokuba's thoughts had been doing. "We're not _made _for each other, like everyone thinks. We're close, and I love him, but he has his own life."

"And you have yours now," Mokuba said pointedly. "So why can't you choose each other? Why don't you want to be with him? Why did you two break up in the first place?" The questions were falling from his lips instinctively. It was what he had always done—been the bouncing board, the good friend with the logical advice.

Yami only answered one of his questions. "Yuugi deserves to make decisions of his own."

Mokuba ran his hands through his hair, both of them stringing long locks between his fingers. "Yami, you're being stupid. If that's the case, then what am I doing? Am I not making my own choices either?"

"Yuugi did not choose for me to inhabit his body, to infiltrate his mind or impose the intimacy that we now have. It wasn't his _choice_, Mokuba."

...he hadn't thought of it that way before. Yuugi, the high-schooler that had defeated Pegasus, Marik, the Big Five, so many others—destiny had its drawbacks, didn't it? He supposed the question was: would Yami have bonded in that way to anyone else? Had Yuugi been chosen _because_ Yami would bond with him? Mokuba's mind turned these subjects over and over in the silence that crept between the two of them. _How would it feel to be attracted to, love and cherish a person so much that you wanted them to have a _life_ without your intrusion?_ Mokuba had once thought that he felt that way about his older brother; but he was much too selfish for that kind of sacrifice.

"I shouldn't have kissed him," Yami began again, "but I couldn't help it. It just...happened." Then his voice became almost inaudible. "_...with you_." Mokuba heard.

"What?" he asked.

Yami cleared his throat. "Especially not...since I've been with you." He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Mokuba shook his head. "It's a complicated thing, much more than I thought at first. I had never—I wasn't being sensitive." His mind momentarily flickered toward the image of Yami and Marik, Yami admitting that he'd slept with fifteen people since the end of his relationship with Yuugi, and his stomach dropped a bit.

"Mokuba..." Yami trailed off, not meeting his eyes. "I'm tired of this." The younger Kaiba prepared himself to lift from his chair, to march over to Yami and hug him. Maybe they could have comfort sex? It was really the only soothing thing that he could think of at the moment, as terrible a man as that made him. Just as he braced himself to move, Yami added, "I'm tired of pretending I don't want to be in a relationship with you."

His body froze.

* * *

This was prompt #66.


	29. Cyber

Mokuba closed the window for the fourth time that day. He wasn't getting any work done at all—friends kept messaging him. He should have simply closed the browser, but there were a few people whose numbers he still needed, and addresses, and...

Andrea was the worst. She kept messing with him, especially since she knew that he could be online at work. And if he wasn't online, or he logged off (or blocked her, which was more often becoming the case) she would text him. It was almost annoying simply to speak with her—almost all she did was flirt. And while Andrea had been Mokuba's first in a few ways, he felt mocked. They weren't involved anymore—hadn't been even when he'd left. But now that there was an ocean and three-quarters of a country between them it seemed that Andrea had no qualms about her behavior. He didn't want to deal with it, frankly. He had thought that it would be fine, at first—he had loved her, even if she hadn't felt the same way, and a little attention was good enough. But _that_was all she ever did—she wasn't interested in talking about anything else or keeping up with each other seriously.

Mokuba pulled his tie loose, closing his laptop as hard as he would allow himself to. It didn't take him long to gather his things.

* * *

This was prompt #56.


	30. Erection

_There is one thing that is good about having your room all to yourself,_ Yami thought._ If I feel like it in the morning, I can masturbate in peace._

* * *

I actually had a good time doing this in one sentence.

This was prompt #31._  
_


	31. Throat

Mokuba couldn't remember the last time that he had done something like this; the lights were dim, only lit by the dull screen in front of them. He was uncomfortable in his chair, bones itching; the sensation enough to stop most sounds from the room from reaching his ears. He was concentrating on keeping his breathing steady, controlling the contraction of his lungs. His cool, collected breaths were a lie—his body was ablaze. Yami was trying to quell those flames with his tongue. It was a cruel torture, his knuckles white as they clutched the edge of the armrests. He squirmed but couldn't move very much with another body in his lap. He was sweating.

The theatre was nearly empty, and the low rumble that Yami let loose didn't appear to be caught by anyone else, so Mokuba remained silent. He watched as Yami began to unbutton his shirt-the air didn't do his skin any good. He shifted his hips, spreading his legs to give his erection a bit of room, submitting himself to Yami's touches. The teeth on his skin were like small strikes of lightning, the tongue raking his skin. He wanted to reach to undo some of the buttons himself, but his hands had nestled on the inside of Yami's thighs and he refused to move them. Wishing that Yami would turn to face him completely and simply straddle his hips, Mokuba allowed his lips to part to release a sigh dripping with desire.

* * *

This was prompt #15.


	32. Feather

He was more perplexed by the box on top of his bed than upset that a certain _someone _had entered into his room without permission in the first place. Simple cardboard, undecorated, with a packing label on top but covered with tape. Yami felt the disdain build like bile in his stomach; he didn't want to open it, knowing who it was from and also knowing the man hadn't the balls to deliver the package directly to him.

...but, having been a Pharaoh, Yami had a soft spot for presents and offerings. Yami sat on the mattress, thinking of what to do. _On one hand_, he argued to himself, _it is awfully nice of him. _And it was, to be honest. But gifts didn't get rid of the problem, which was that Yuugi appeared to have—although he obviously still cared for Yami—a lot of resentment. Feelings that Yuugi had purposefully hidden from him, and deep seated ones at that. Good or bad, for better or worse, Yami had always been honest about his feelings for Yuugi, and he had no resentments about Yuugi at all. Yuugi had been a best-friend, a confidant, a lover—a blessing of sorts from the Gods despite all that everyone had been through.

But there was no way that Yami could wrap his head around this one.

Yami's fingers were already reaching for the bedside table, picking through the lower drawer for scissors. The tape fought him for a few moments before meeting its demise, and then the box was free. A smaller box was inside, bubble wrap wound around it. Yami had to remember to close his mouth after he gasped; he was amazed at the quality. The smaller box was made of polished wood—of what kind he couldn't tell—and the hinges on the back were golden. It was much longer than it was wide, with no engravings or anything on the outside to tell him what it was. Yami checked the packaging again, but there was no paperwork inside—perhaps Yuugi had removed it all? Needles prickled the tips of his fingers as Yami opened the little wooden box, and he couldn't explain to himself quite why he was feeling so nervous.

He couldn't keep his mouth from hanging open that time. Held within was an ornately designed quill for writing, which came with a (what he assumed) to be a complimentary container of dark brown ink. The quill was an off-white color with light brown stripes on the tip, fluffy and robust as though it had been delicately preserved. Yami was sure that it came from an owl of some sort. The handle was golden, like the hinges on the box, and had some sort of small red jewel (which Yami wasn't quite sure was genuine) at the top in a small groove. The nib was gold to match the handle, and was pretty large. When Yami picked it up, he noticed that there was a small indentation in the box that held a bag full of other nibs in different sizes. On the top of the inside of the box was a _post-it note_, so out of place that it had to have been from Yuugi.

_Yami,_

_I remembered that you liked to write with stuff like this. Sorry._

_Yuugi._

Yami placed the gift back inside, and closed the box.

* * *

This was prompt #07.


	33. Threesome

"I figgered you two would be the ones I talked to about this," Jounouchi said.

It was the first time that he had been in the same room with Yuugi in almost a month—of course, Jounouchi would be the one to do it. He needed advice about something or other, and Yami wasn't going to let his feud with Yuugi stop him from being a good friend. Yuugi hadn't objected, so there they were, Yami learning over the counter in the kitchen and Yuugi sitting on the couch in the living room, seated in one of the chairs adjacent.

"...I, uh..." Jounouchi started. "I have a problem."

"Obviously," Yami quipped.

"...there's a girl I'm goin' out wit right now," he continued. "But, we're not official yet or anythin'—she has another guy she might have feelings for?"

"Ugh. Baggage?" Yami groaned.

"Well," Yuugi said, "you'll just have to wait for her to choose what she wants. It may not be you. She might not be ready for her to leave, to be moving on. It's not fair to her—or the other guy, to date her while she's with someone else."

"Uhh..." Jou stammered, clearly not happy with that answer.

Yami thought the blond was somewhat easy to read. "Whatever's bothering you, please do spit it out. We don't have all day, and we can't read anyone's mind but each others'—at least, not anymore."

"I have all day," Yuugi said with a smile, just to be contrary.

Jou shook his head. "Look—this girl, she-she wants...to date us both."

Yami thought he had heard the boy incorrectly at first. "What?"

"She wants to date us both," Jou repeated, more comfortably.

Yami and Yuugi erupted into questions at the same time. "Is she sure she knows what she's asking?" Yuugi said. "She wants to date you both separately, or together in a relationship?"

Yami asked simultaneously, "So what's the problem? Do you not like the other guy?"

"Wait, wait," Jou said, holding his hands up. "Yes, she knows what she's asking—she wants us together. No, I don't like the other guy—I barely know him. But..."

Yami made sure to make eye contact with Jounouchi. "But you like her."

Jounouchi nodded. "I...I've already gone out on a couple dates with them," he confessed in a small voice.

"But, Jou," Yuugi pointed out, "you don't like men."

"Do you?" Yami followed up.

"No—no!" Jounouchi said defensively. "But—I'm worried, guys. I think she's gonna want a threesome wit this guy. I don't _do_ guys." He was shaking his head, holding his it in his hands.

"Hmm," Yuugi said.

"Try not to pay attention to him, then—I guess," Yami said. He crossed his arms. "Look, you like this girl, right? And you already agreed to the arrangement—or to consider it at least—by dating them. Right?"

"I guess," Jou said slowly, shrugging.

"So, if you want to fuck her," Yami said, "you're just going to have to swallow your pride and deal with it."

"Taking part in a threesome doesn't make you gay, in my opinion," Yuugi piped up, and Yami was glad that they could agree on something without being petty about it, "if that's what you were worried about. Just tell them that you're not…you know, into the guy."

"I agree," Yami stated boldly. His and Yuugi's eyes met for just a moment and then they both looked away. "Once you're into her, anyway, you won't even care about the other guy. Just focus on the girl. That's who your attention is on, right?"

"Y-yeah," Jou said.

"So don't let him get to you," Yuugi said. "He had to agree to the threesome situation, too—"

"So he's probably not out to get you," Yami finished. "Just don't bother judging yourself about it. If you feel like people won't understand—you're not obligated to share."

_No one knew that _we_ were together,_ Yami thought, and his eyes found Yuugi's again when he heard he lighter voice in his head, thinking the same thought.

Jounouchi took a deep breath. "I've never done something this crazy before."

Yami rolled his eyes. "What we'll do for love—"

"I don't know if I love her."

"But you care a lot."

"Yeah..." Jounouchi said, and he stood, signaling that he was going to go. "Thanks guys," he added, almost as an aside. Yami knew that people were embarrassed to talk about this sort of thing, so he let Jon's awkwardness go unteased.

"I'm glad that we could help," Yuugi said, with a note of finality.

Neither of them, Yami or Yuugi, wanted to leave first. Jou was used to the two of them speaking to each other or being in deep debate when he visited. Neither of them wanted to let on that anything was wrong—in Yami's opinion, he just didn't want Jounouchi to spread any word amongst their friends.

Jou thanked them again before stepping out. And Yuugi and Yami were left seated in the living room, together.

* * *

In case anyone was wondering, this is the point where the "Be Cool" Universe connects to my other work, "Choices", a Conflictshipping piece that deals with what went into Jounouchi's ultimate decision on the matter. There's a mention of this conversation in that work, as well. Also connected to this storyline is "Blur", and there's another upcoming piece as well.

This was prompt #53.


	34. Ice

"On the rocks, please," Mokuba added to his order.

He and Yami were just catching a quick glass before heading home. It had been a wonderful date—yes, a _date_, something that he hadn't ever pictured Yami on in his life. The dinner had been a bit awkward at first, because Yami hadn't been dressed for an upscale restaurant, but things smoothed over. He seemed surprised that Mokuba had taken the outing seriously, and the younger Kaiba had yet to decide if that was an insult or a compliment.

They had talked, something that he wasn't sure the two of them had done before. Of course they'd spoken to each other; but other than venting frustrations had they actually gotten to know each other? Not really. Mokuba knew where Yami worked, that he smoked and that he liked clubbing. That was about the extent of his knowledge, and realizing that as he got ready to go out had almost given him a heart attack. Even when he and Andrea had been sleeping together they were still rather close, and even now he could recall her favorite foods and films—restaurants too, along with other things.

But Yami was guarded in a sort of way, and he gave answers that were...a bit vague at times. Thanks to their dinner he knew that Yami liked reading quite a bit—despite the fact that Mokuba hadn't seen him read a single thing other than his phone and shop inventory since he had returned. Yami listed a few things that he liked reading, which seemed random and not in any particular genre or pattern. Two science fiction novels, a young adult novel from the library, a historical fiction—and the book that Yami was currently reading, which was, ironically about life in Cairo after major political changes. It was a surprise to hear Yami speak in such a formal way, different from he had been while they were better before. More serious, in a way that made things seem more solid and real.

Outside of his reading list, however, Yami retreated into single word answers and subject changes after that, shrugging off questions concerning what he _wanted_to do with his life. He simply wanted to live, he'd said, which hadn't been indicative of anything at all. So Mokuba had spoken about himself. He hadn't had a career goal. But he did have things he wanted to try—things that would be within his reach so long as he worked at KaibaCorp. With money to spare, he could take trips, perhaps get a better bike (although he loved Lashonda).

Then, to show his fun side, he took Yami to play laser tag—something that Yami had never experienced before. Mokuba had played many times, as it was a popular thing to do in the states, and Yami had been a bit mystified at how it all worked in the beginning, but he told Mokuba that he would "get over it soon enough", and he did. Yami's hand was very steady, and Mokuba was sure that his aim was better, too. But not everyone had practice fighting in Ancient Egypt with hulking monster-spirits. The group they'd ended up playing with seemed friendly enough—no one came looking for them when Mokuba pulled Yami into a corner for a few kisses. Between that and being in Yami's natural habitat (with drinks!), Mokuba was hoping he could get his date to relax a bit more.

"So," Yami said sarcastically, "was your date as great as you'd thought it would be?"

"Of course it was," Mokuba answered honestly. "I had a lot of fun." Yami seemed to not expect such an upfront answer to his question, and fell silent, sipping at his scotch. Mokuba began to worry just a bit. "Did you?"

"I'll never understand the concept of shooting at others for sport outside of training," he answered, shaking his head. "But it was amusing. Those contraptions don't resemble guns at all."

Mokuba chuckled. "What do you know about using guns, Yami?" And that quickly, he'd caught him—Mokuba highly doubted that Yami had ever touched such a thing in his life, and the way that Yami took a deeper swig of his drink and looked away told him that he'd hit the nail on the head with that one. "Anyway," he began again, when it became obvious that Yami wasn't going to say anything else, "you going home or coming with me?" The Bartender returned with his Bloody Mary, and he sipped at it a bit. It probably wasn't the best idea to have a drink before going home, but it was only one.

"Home is fine," Yami said, finishing off the last of the scotch.

Mokuba feigned being hurt. "Oh, whatever shall I do without you?" he teased. It would be odd not having Yami there with him; he had stayed the night for the last few days. "—but seriously, did something happen between you and Yuugi?" Mokuba wanted them to settle things between each other, but hadn't said much about it since it wasn't any of his business. Yami _had_screwed things up between them, so that was a decision that he was going to have to make. There were too many things involved for him to state an opinion—Mokuba just couldn't identify with what was going on. He couldn't imagine how it would feel to not be able to control his feelings and inhibitions, even with one person. And if one thing was obvious, it was that Yami was pretty torn up over this issue.

"We talked a little," Yami said. "Without yelling."

"That's good," Mokuba said, taking another sip, not wanting to push.

"I haven't told him, but I think I need to move out." Mokuba's eyebrows knitted. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea. "I'm too dependent on everyone—and, regardless of what support system I have, it's obvious that my proximity to Yuugi is making things hard for him. Living together isn't the best arrangement right now. That much is true." He sighed. "I can tell by the look on your face that you don't agree with me."

Mokuba weighed his options, and decided to say at least a bit of his opinion. "I sort of do. I see that you're trying to do the best thing here, but..."

"You don't think I can do it," Yami supplied. He sounded rather calm. Much too calm.

So Mokuba was cautious. "Why do you still live with Yuugi anyway? I just figured that...I don't know. I just thought that there was a good reason for you to be living there. You don't have any job experience, maybe?"

"I've been working with Gramps for more than five years. That's retail experience."

"Is that what you want to do?" It felt like the air was getting thicker. He could tell that Yami was becoming annoyed.

"It's not about what I want. It's what I have to do." Yami ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting. "It's not as though I'm dependent without reason. Mokuba, I have no identity here. I'm being paid under the table by Gramps and I have no legal documentation whatsoever. This isn't something _I_decided. I'm here. There's nothing I can do but work with what the damned Items have given me."

Wow. Well didn't that information just hit him like a bus?

Mokuba was quite honestly shocked. He struggled for his words a bit, hating himself for looking stupid and naive while doing so. Quite literally, Yami didn't have an identity. Barely getting by and only then because he and Yuugi looked so similar... "So,' Mokuba blurted out, "you've been...tied to Yuugi the whole time." It was a statement, not a question, and one that he should have kept to himself. It was a tactless thing to say, to reiterate something that Yami already knew. Of course they were shackled to each other! This only made it much worse. Mokuba could only ask himself, _What on earth can he do under these circumstances?_Everything was dependent on personal information; even if Yami were to get hired, he would need proper identification. He couldn't just go around without leaving a trail; the government would become suspicious, eventually. Mokuba could only imagine what kind of strait jacket he and Yami were going to be put in if they tried to explain everything that had happened leading up to Yami's appearance. It was out of the question. But then again, he supposed that the Millennium Items weren't concerned with something like scraps of paper—which is what they were, then he really thought about it.

"Yes," Yami said. "I have." He seemed to feel awkward about the current subject, because he added, "But I'm not making a permanent decision right now—we can talk about it later." Not very tactful or subtle—he was obviously uncomfortable.

Mokuba finished off his drink a bit faster than he should have. "Home, then?"

Yami nodded.

* * *

This was prompt #11.


	35. Scent

His date with Mokuba had gone nicely, in his opinion. Wonderful dinner, though he wished that Mokuba had told him where they were going. He would have dressed more appropriately. He hated formal dinners. Too many expectations, too stuffy.

Yami had a great time learning how to shoot in laser tag, though.

Talking with Mokuba at the bar had forced him to make some decisions he had needed to make for a long time, so although that conversation had basically been shot to hell he had needed that too. _Two dates so far. _He took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been on a real date, not an appointment for fucking or simply going out to eat. It felt a bit nice, but awkward. He wasn't good at that kind of thing at all. He wasn't a romantic. Weren't people only supposed to fuck after three dates, or something? It's not as though he would know anything about it. He and Mokuba were off to an unconventional start in the first place.

_"Seeing, dating, sexing—it's all the same thing. You have a partner. Deal with it." _It seemed that Marik had been right about that, at least.

The living room light was on when he got home. Had Yuugi been waiting for him? But Yami couldn't see anyone sitting and he couldn't hear the television's usual static echoing in the open room. Maybe Gramps had been up reading and had just forgotten about it.

No. Yuugi had fallen asleep on the couch. He was wearing what looked like a formal button up and some slacks. Date wear.

Ah.

So they'd both been on dates tonight. It was a weird feeling, knowing that. They were on rocky terms at best. But, he supposed, at least they were on some sort of terms to begin with.

Yuugi had fallen asleep sitting up. Despite himself, Yami decided to do the younger boy a favor. Venturing upstairs, he brought some blankets down and tossed them over the sleeping youth. While Yami was close, he could smell it: smell _her_ on Yuugi's neck and he forced himself to take a step back. Luckily for him when Yuugi stirred he leaned over to stretch out on the couch instead, curling into the covers. Good. He didn't want to be faced with any awkward questions or accusations if Yuugi woke up. Yami wasn't sure how he would react. He could remember when he used to delight in being close enough to run his nose across Yuugi's skin.

The memory was too close.

Circling around again, he turned the lamp off to hasten to his own room.

"Yami?" he heard, a question spoken by tired tones.

Instinctively he turned to see what Yuugi wanted, and cursed himself; but he managed to catch himself mid-stride, chiding himself. That was how he'd gotten into this mess in the first place. Acting on how he felt and not what made sense.

"Yami?" The call sounded again. "Is that you?"

"..."

After a few moments of silence Yami ignored him, and tiptoed up to his room instead.

* * *

This is prompt #27


	36. Submissive

Mokuba had been brought to Seto's office once he'd made it clear that he had visited for business purposes only. It had been a difficult thing for the Help to grasp, and a few maids had gathered around the corner from the office door, looking as though Mokuba had been headed toward his doom. _Was it really so strange?_ he wondered as he walked in. _I do work for him, after all_.

When he walked in Seto was sitting quite calmly, a smirk resting on his features. Mokuba almost expected to be _greeted,_ Seto looked so content. It was a strange feeling for Mokuba. It was still a far cry from the genuine smiles, the warm hugs and encouragement he had received when he'd been a child. _This _was the Seto that everyone else had known, that he had been blinded to. To then be cast in the same lot as 'everyone else' was unsettling, and he felt something heavy drop to his pit of his stomach.

He felt quite replaced. He was sure that Seto didn't treat Ishizu the way that he was being treated.

"I assume you're here about the PR position I offered you."

Mokuba cut to the chase. "I'll take it," he said.

Seto suddenly frowned, and he asked, "What's wrong? Something's happened?" The tone was presumptuous, and Mokuba couldn't call him out on it. He was quite right, this time.

"I have a problem that I need you to fix." Mokuba shifted on the balls of his feet. "This isn't the way I wanted to go about doing it, but I have no choice. It's not something that I can do myself." He felt helpless, adding that he didn't have the resources to finish this job; back in the day, as Mokuba Kaiba his name would have carried more weight. That was a long time ago, and something like what he was asking for held a lot of legal weight. He hadn't been in the country for years. It would have been risky at best to try to pursue the task himself.

His older brother sighed, elbows atop his desk and fingers intertwining. "What's the problem?" he asked, leering as though he'd been trying to rip Mokuba's eyes out with his own.

Mokuba was finding it difficult to pretend he wasn't nervous, and he decided to drop the act. Hopefully, being sincere would be more of an asset here than a hinderance, although with Seto it was always hard to tell what he wanted to hear. Running fingers through his hair, he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of him, plopping down heavily. "It's Yami," he said. "He...well, he doesn't have any paperwork on file—anything. No prints, no Soc., no I.D.—"

Seto interrupted him, raising a hand, his expression grim. "Mokuba, are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

Nervous he may have been, but he wasn't going to breakdown and be a complete bitch to his brother. "Yes," Mokuba confirmed. Seto Kaiba didn't accept excuses, and Mokuba didn't need to make up any. He had made his request. It would either be a 'yes' or 'no' from here.

Seto leaned back into his chair, sighing, fingers once again intertwined. He said nothing at first, and the silence stretched between them. Mokuba thought about counting them; that was something he used to to do a child while Seto pondered.

Finally Seto said, "I can do it." Mokuba waited patiently for the catch. It had taken him entirely too long to surmise that decision. "This isn't an easy task, Mokuba. You can't just drop people out of the sky. I'm not the _F.B.I._."

"I know."

"You're going to have to do more than just take the PR position."

Mokuba sighed. "I know. Lay it on me," he added.

Seto paused again, eyes flashing away from Mokuba for just a moment before focusing on him again. To anyone else, that would have just been a fleeting gesture, probably not noticeable. But Mokuba knew that it wasn't a very good sign. "You're willing to do this." It was a statement, not a question, but the fact that his older brother had delayed informing him of the stakes of this exchange was enough reason for worry.

"Well, I won't know until you tell me what it is I'll be doing. That's the point, isn't it?" He wasn't sure why Seto was being so serious about this; regardless of what he was going to have to do, he doubted that it would be something immoral or unethical.

"You're going to become the head of my Press Department," he said. "And then, in three months you're going to become my Personal Assistant."

Mokuba had been ready to have his duties dramatically changed, but Personal Assistant? He frowned visibly. That was a bit too much. "Are you kidding me?"

Seto's expression was grave. "No," he said.

"Personal assistant? Really? You're going to make me into your lapdog?"

"What makes you think that? I don't trust anyone else for the job, and my personal secretary hates her job."

"I wonder why?" Mokuba spat before realizing what he was saying. "So you're going to make me hate _my _job, too?"

He noticed the minute turn of his brother's jaw, that he was insulted. "Mokuba, this is s deal. I am doing you a favor. A favor for which I will be in the debt of at least two people. If I'm in debt, Mokuba, you are. You're either going to take it or leave it. Is _he _worth this or not?"

Mokuba hesitated. "...how _long _do I have to be your Personal Assistant?"

He wondered if Seto would have cared about the cost of such a request had he asked when he were younger. It was an unfair thing to ask at this point, but he couldn't help but feel embittered by what his older brother wanted in return. This was some weird, twisted version of the mafia; he was sure of it. Too many American movies. But there was no daughter, no wedding to make this more convenient.

"Two years." Without skipping a beat, that was the answer. "Less, perhaps, if there is some incident that changes the dynamics between myself and my debtors."

"Two years? You expect me to agree to that?"

"I expect you to be reasonable, Mokuba."

"And I expected the same from you, but it doesn't seem like I'm going to get it." Two years of servitude to KaibaCorp? Surely, doing what he was asking for couldn't have been that difficult; in the states, getting fake paperwork was reasonably simple (provided you had the money to do so), and Mokuba knew that KaibaCorp had a number of associates and sponsors. Lots of them. It could not have possibly been worth two years of work.

"Mokuba, you're not only getting this position, but the salary and the flexible schedule that comes with it. It's my offer. I'm not changing." Seto's fingers untangled themselves from each other. "If you need to think about it, feel free to do so and return. I'm not holding this over your head-those are just my terms."

What made this decision more offensive, in Mokuba's mind was that he was truly attempting to do the right thing-his attraction be damned (not for long, though), Yami hadn't asked for what he had been given; he was struggling to deal with it, and all things considered, he was doing a pretty damn good job. Mokuba was just trying to help-in fact, help one of the people who had basically saved the Universe from evil duel monster spirit things? (He'd heard the story-wished he'd been there)

And he was paying for it.

Mokuba sighed. For all of his bitching and moaning, he knew what he was going to say. There was only one real choice to make. And that was, really, the right one. "I'll take it," he said, and then he paused afterward. "But I want it in writing."

* * *

This is prompt #36.


	37. Massage

Mokuba seemed so tired when he came home from work, and Yami actually put down his book to pay attention.

"Hey, Yami," he said, tossing his suit jacket on the floor. Yami nodded in response, watching as Mokuba settled himself into the largest (and therefore his favorite) chair. The round, glass table that was normally in the center of the room was called into service as a foot stool.

He wasn't quite sure how to ask about Mokuba's day without sounding like a worried housewife, so for the moment, Yami said nothing. But he was worried. Mokuba had been pulling long nights recently, and Yami knew enough to sense that indicated a problem. Most of Mokuba's complaining was about not wanting to end up like Seto, in the office from dawn until after dusk.

"Everything at the shop doing okay today?" Mokuba asked. A sigh escaped him afterward as he slouched further into the chair cushions.

"Yeah," Yami replied. "Heavy storm of kids now that school's out. Yuugi needed study time, so I've been on my feet all day." Of course, the shop closed around the same time that Mokuba usually left work. "He's closing up. I've only been here a few minutes." Since he had the opportunity to do it so nonchalantly, he added, "You?"

"I was offered a promotion," Mokuba said, his voice almost hoarse, "and I took it." Pale hands ran themselves over his face and into dark hair. "You are now looking at the new head of Press and Media Release for KaibaCorp, effective next week.

Yami wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't sure whether it was good news or bad news—so he asked simply, "Why?" Mokuba hated working for KaibaCorp as far as he knew. Perhaps he was trying to work things out with Seto? But he found himself unable to put those thoughts into direct questions. He was just not good at prying, really. Mokuba was the only person he knew who had an idea of his motivations at this point, and Yami believed he had a right to them. He had already made it clear that he wanted to improve things with Seto.

"The money, really," Mokuba supplied. He was leaning back into his chair, limbs spread lazily across the armrests. "I want to get a slightly bigger place," he added.

Yami blinked. "Not big enough for you already?"

"It is," Mokuba answered, but he paused before continuing. "I have a lot of stuff from my childhood at the old house, though. I want to make space. My old gaming systems and bookshelves and things; stuff I was planning to take when I settled back in Domino but never got around to. Not with things between me and Seto the way that they are. This living room is enough for people to chill in, but I like having a guestroom for friends. I'd rather not turn it into a storage room."

Yami had no idea how much Mokuba actually made, and even less of an idea of what Mokuba _wanted_, so he kept his mouth shut about that. "I bet Seto's happy." For some odd reason, the room felt tense, the air thick. It was fairly obvious from that alone that Mokuba didn't really want the promotion at all, at least to Yami. He wasn't going very far to hide his lack of enthusiasm.

"Of course he is. He's got plans for me, I'm sure."

"Then why don't you tell him to fuck off?" There. An intrusive question.

"He's my brother," Mokuba justified quickly. "He's gotten over some of the differences we had when I first came back, and I want things to work out. And since I'm getting something out of it I see no reason to complain."

Yami decided to change the subject, because everything that Mokuba had just told him was bullshit and he knew it. "Congrats on your promotion, then. You look like you were just hit by a bus."

A wry chuckle loosened itself from Mokuba's throat. "I _deeply _appreciate your honesty."

Yami stood, making sure his book was set down neatly behind him. Mokuba really did look like shit, and he felt like something needed to be done about it or he'd been dealing with an irritable Kaiba for the evening. Coming to a sudden decision, he made his way over to Mokuba's chair. He wasn't good at asking the right question in the right way, and it had been even longer since had been able to say something poignant or helpful at the right time. Fate and imminent world destruction, he could do; he was a ruler after all, born and bred and tried. But when it became so specific as a single person in a unique situation that wouldn't affect many others, he found himself lacking.

Perhaps that was why his life had become a jumble; his "talents", now that his role had been fulfilled, were not nearly as encompassing as he had thought. It was something that he had been coping with for a long time, and it was irritating whenever a situation like this one reminded him of what he _couldn't _do, rather than what he could.

Mokuba's voice cut through his thoughts. "If you don't mind, Yami, I'm going to just head to bed early. I'm exhausted, as you can tell. Need a ride back to the shop?"

"No. I have the truck. I just wanted to hang around here for a while." Meaning, of course, that he didn't want to deal with being at home. By the time he had finished speaking, he was standing directly behind Mokuba. Dark, brown eyes were looking upward at him from the chair. Mokuba smiled just a little before sighing again.

"So you'll be a lot more busy in the upcoming days?" It was more of an assumption, really, but part of Yami was hoping that such a thing wouldn't be true. It seemed that the more and more Mokuba wanted to remain unassociated with the corporate world, the harder it was working to pull him in.

He watched a head full of dark hair learn forward just slightly, as though to rise, before falling back again. Mokuba looked up again and closed his eyes, sighing. "Yeah. The head PR's position is full-time...with overtime attached. It's disgusting, Yami. I get flexible hours, but only under the pretense of being available at every waking moment."

Yami's brows knitted in concern, and he reached out to grasp Mokuba's shoulders. Mokuba's eyes opened, staring upward again, but Yami didn't say a word. Instead, he tightened his grip on Mokuba's shoulders, very slowly kneading the muscles underneath. He had very little skill at doing things like this, and he tried to keep himself alert; channeling the feel that he was aspiring to, wanting to be able to tell if this was uncomfortable for Mokuba in any way. Was his grip firm enough? Was it too firm? He didn't know what it felt like to feel a tensed muscle under his palm, what a person physically felt like when a person was stressed. He wondered, briefly, if it was the same as the coiling of a muscle for jumping, punching or kicking. Mokuba's shoulders felt like...shoulders. How was he supposed to be able to tell?

He was thinking too much. _Just keep doing it_, he told himself. _No complaints yet_. But he didn't want to just let silence slip between them; he already felt awkward. "So he can call you at any time?" he asked, to give himself something else to focus on. His fingers moved inward, closer to his neck, and Yami rolled the skin under his fingertips.

Mokuba's body sunk into the chair a little as he relaxed, and Yami had to go around to the side so that he could reach. Mokuba was silent while they shifted, but that was a good thing; it meant that he wasn't telling Yami to stop. "Anytime he wants," Mokuba muttered. "I put in three hours of time every day at the actual headquarters. I get the rest of the day to myself, but I have to keep my company pager and my cellphone on my person at all times. And, of course, for bigger events or coverage I'll be up and about all day. _Whoo hoo_."

Yami debated with himself before voicing his opinion. He didn't want to ruin the moment, and despite knowing a it about Mokuba's relationship with Kaiba he really didn't _know_any specific details. "Sounds like you're bieng used, Mokuba."

When Mokuba leaned forward again, nearly hunching over his knees to expose his back, Yami froze—he certainly didn't know how to massage an entire back. Then Mokuba said, "Yami, that feels _good._" The purr in his voice was obvious and Yami felt compelled to continue, especially when Mokuba didn't follow that up with a quip or a joke.

Yami pressed his fingers against Mokuba's back, sliding them downward until he could grip Mokuba's sides. Pressing with his thumbs a bit more, he began to move them around in a circular pattern. He didn't exactly know where Mokuba was feeling stiff, but Yami thought it logical to start in the middle and move up.

"You can press harder," Mokuba sighed happily, and Yami could hear it in his voice. He smiled.

Was he scoring points or what? Those shits better be redeemable for _something_.

"A little lower, please," Mokuba asked gently. It was nearly a whimper, and between that and a second sigh just a few moments later, it was obvious to Yami when he found the right spot.

He wasn't going to say anything, but it seemed obvious that Mokuba was more upset about having to take the promotion than he was letting on. They probably weren't going to discuss it further, though, so Yami kept that observation to himself. He had no clue as to why Mokuba had taken the promotion in the first place, but he didn't really believe the explanation involving money. How exactly was this making things easier for his relationship with Seto? Whatever the answer was, he did hope that Mokuba would be happy with the outcome. Mokuba could be an asshole, but he was also very..._sweet_, as much as he hated to think it, and he was especially so whenever Seto was involved, underneath his intial anger.

"I didn't know you were decent at massages," Mokuba continued to purr. "I feel like I could fall asleep right here."

_Cute_, Yami acknowledged, and he absentmindedly touseled Mokuba's hair. He would chatise himself about it later.

"I didn't know I was, either," Yami told him.

"You know what, Yami? Every day you surprise me more and more."

Yami chuckled nervously.

* * *

This is prompt #37.


	38. Relationships

The doorbell rang and Yuugi darted toward it. He was at the top of the stairs before he stopped and doubled back, mumbling something about needing to keep an eye on tonight's dinner. "Just one minute, please!" he shouted, and Yami knew that Yuugi's voice wasn't going to reach down an entire flight.

It wasn't until the doorbell rang a few seconds later that he closed his latest piece of reading material and stood.

"That's her, isn't it? I'll get it."

"No, no, no. I'll get it. Just give me a minute." Yami ignored him. The two of them weren't being hostile to each other anymore, but they weren't on speaking terms yet. To be honest, Yami wasn't sure why it had been insisted he attend in the first place, but he wasn't trying to upset the balance they had reached.

He might well end the fucking suspense. It would be easier to say hello to her without Yuugi's awkward smile in the way. Trudging lazily down the stairs, he heard the doorbell play again before he reached to open it.

"Hi, Yuugi!" crooned a decidedly female voice.

Yami realized that she was stepping forward to hug him in just enough time to take a step back.

The first thing he noticed what that the girl was blond—as blond as Mai, actually. But her hair was tightly curled, spiralling down to her shoulders, and her eyes were big and blue. They were wide, staring at him across the threshhold. That was all he had to chance to notice before stepping back to avoid her embrace.

Her brows knitted for just a moment before she said, "Oh," hands suddenly at her sides. Her face turned red. "You're not Yuugi." She paused, looking away. "I'm so sorry Yami...! I really didn't—" she spoke as though she knew him.

"Rebecca!" Yami heard from behind him, and he stepped aside. "You're here!" Yuugi moved to hug her, but she put her arms up in protest.

"I really didn't want to be one of _those _people!" Her hands went up and onto her mouth, so her next words were a little muffled. "I just haven't really been face-to-face...and..." she was still talking to Yami.

"It's fine," he laughed. He was normally skeptical of those who couldn't tell the difference between the two of them (for example, Mokuba had spotted the difference immediately), but her apology was very sincere.

..._Rebecca's _apology.

"To be fair," Yami quipped back, "I didn't recognize you either. You've grown up."

"I'd like to think so," she replied with a small smile.

With the excitement of the moment dying down, Yuugi ushered everyone upstairs. "Alright, come on..."

The next several minutes were ones that Yami spent in silence. Grandpa finally arrived after taking _forever_ to change (He wore _red _overalls this time. Fancy.), and he took his time greeting Rebecca. After Yuugi revealed that she was _the _Rebecca, Arthur's granddaughter, Gramps began to ask her all sorts of questions. It worked out well enough for Yami: he was free to retreat to his room while they were otherwise occupied.

Once he had settled in his bed he had the chance to think: _...it's Rebecca_.

That fact rather changed things. He hadn't expected Yuugi's new girlfriend to be someone that he had already met. It was frustrating, in a way—Yuugi should have simply told him if that was the case. He hadn't been one to duel Rebecca at the arcade—Yuugi had. Yami had never spoken to her, and therefore didn't know her. But he had _been _there, in a sense, and he had seen her. He couldn't impose some false personality on her, couldn't pretend to hate her or that he was being the bigger person by accepting her.

He was in a tight spot.

It wasn't that he didn't want Yuugi to be happy. But their argument had brought up a lot of things between the both of them that Yami hadn't known were there in the first place. And now, Rebecca was rather in the middle of it. He almost _preferred _to not have seen her. Now that he had Yuugi was going to start bringing her over regularly, and she would effectively be the elephant in the room, starting with this dinner.

Yami needed to get out of there.

There was a knock on his door. "What?"

"Can I come in?" It was Yuugi's voice.

Yami thought about it. Could he get himself together?

"No." Despite his best efforts, the only emotion he could channel was bitterness. They'd end up fighting if Yuugi came in.

Of course, he was sure that Yuugi hadn't been expecting that answer. There was a considerable amount of silence before he continued. "Can we set things aside tonight? I just want to have a decent dinner. It would be weird if you weren't here."

Yami had decided earlier to sit through the damned dinner, but Yuugi's plead only pushed him to renege on his words. Set things adide? For a woman he really wasn't acquainted with? If they were going to set things aide, it should have been because they both wanted to get over this mess, not solely for Yuugi's benefit.

"Yami?" Yuugi called again. "If you said something, I couldn't hear you."

Yami was already grabbing his wallet. _Fuck this_.

When he reached the door, he all but wrenched it open. "I'm heading out," he said, "so you won't have to worry about me."

Yuugi stood there, looking crestfallen, but only for a moment. His eyebrows knitted in anger, and he said, "I wanted everyone to have dinner together."

Yami stood his ground at the door, unfazed. He had to remind himself that physically shoving Yuugi from his path wasn't in his best interest. "I know what you wanted."

"Weren't you the one bitching about not having the chance to meet her?" Yuugi was clearly exasperated, ears turning pink.

"Too little, too late," Yami spat back. "You move out of our room after screaming at me because _you_ have unreslved issues about our relationship that _you _brought up from nowhere. You make me feel unwelcome in my own home, and you want me to buck up and get my shit together just because you want a happy family to bring your girlfriend home to? No. You're tired of feeling like my puppet, right? Don't want to be used? Good. I'm not letting you use me, either."

Yuugi's anger was wavering, like it always did after the initial outburst. He would be near tears soon. His voice sank to a whisper, and he took a shaky breath before speaking. "Yami, I thought things were getting—"

"Better?" Yami cut him off, chuckling wryly. "Right, because the both of us going out of the house and never seeing each other or never speaking is just as good as actually trying to solve our problems? Please, spare me. You want things to go well _tonight_, for _her_. What about us? What about tomorrow? Are we going to sit down and talk about this?" He didn't give Yuugi the chance to answer, because he already knew it. "No, I didn't think so."

Yuugi's sigh was more heavy this time. "...we can talk. Tomorrow. I promise we'll talk. I promise."

Yami shook his head. "You don't get it. I'm not here just to make you look like a wholesome family man for your girl. I want things to work out because I care about you, not because of someone else. If Rebecca wasn't here tonight, we wouldn't even be speaking. I know this shit is my fault, but you're just being an ass about it. And I don't have to take it. I'm out of here."

Yuugi's arm extended to block Yami's path. "Yami, _please_." Those amethyst eyes were looking more and more moist by the second, and for all his protesting, Yami could feel Yuugi's pleas in their damned _link_. It wrenched his heart and twisted it in a way that produced a pain that no man should feel. Yuugi's feelings were bleeding over, and Yami bit his lip to keep himself focused and composed. He could feel his own eyes watering.

He was sure that Yuugi wasn't doing it on purpose, but Yami hadn't felt anything for weeks—or, more accurately, he'd been feeling the _absence of their connection _for weeks. It was overwhelming to have that bundle of emotions wash over him all at once.

Yami clenched his fists. "...fine. But don't thank me. I'm not through with you yet." He pushed Yuugi's arm aside, and without another word, he began to move down the hall and towards the kitchen.

* * *

This is prompt #38.

Things are starting to get interesting between this couple...


	39. Foreplay

"Come on, Yami," Mokuba sighed. "You gotta give me _something_!" Mokuba rolled over to Yami's side, sighing.

Yami just wasn't in the mood to have sex, quite frankly. Not after having to fake dinner with Rebecca.

As grateful as he was to be with Mokuba at that moment, he felt as though he was permanently turned _off_. He had been looking forward to being pounded, for once. The feeling of being full would be distracting enough to take his mind off of it. He wouldn't have to work to turn Mokuba on, wouldn't have to think of how to make Mokuba succumb to his whims.

Or so he had thought.

But as it turned out, emotional submission didn't really suit him. Even after they'd gotten into bed, naked and freshly showered, Yami just couldn't get into it. His mind was racing about so many things, it had been hard to concentrate on receiving Mokuba's affection in a way he knew his lover would appreciate.

Mokuba sighed heavily. "You're just not in the mood, are you? You're barely even _hard_. Yami, you could have at least told me the truth. Walking in like you really wanted to—"

"I _did_," Yami shot back. "I'm just fucking frustrated with this whole situation."

Mokuba curled himself up beneath the sheets, and turned onto his side to face Yami. "Wanna talk about it? If you don't mind, I'd actually like to get laid today."

Yami clenched his eyes shut. "I don't want to talk."

"Well you clearly don't want to fuck, either, or we'd be doing that already."

"Stop being a dick."

"No, _you_ stop being a dick," Mokuba quipped. "Talking about your issues with Yuugi might put you in a better mood. I promise you won't turn into a woman if you do."

Yami scowled. "That has nothing to do with it."

"Are you sure? Because you're obviously in asshole mode right now, and I didn't do shit to you."

"Look, I'm just fucking upset." Yami sighed again, swallowing his pride. "He's willing to pretend everything is fucking okay just to impress her. What about actually wanting to work things out? He wasn't interested in that at all, until I threatened to leave. I thought I was going to jump him."

It did feel good, getting his feelings out to someone who could understand, but it didn't solve the problem and he _still_ felt angry about it. He didn't want to address the anger. He wanted the problem to be dealt with. He sighed loudly in frustration.

Mokuba moved closer to him, a hand reaching under the covers to stroke him gently. Yami tried his hardest to focus on the sensation, the touch; to convince himself that he wasn't upset and he was totally in the mood to have a romp. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly.

"I get it," Mokuba said softly into his ear. Those lips were close, right on the cusp of his ear, and Yami shivered. "But as upset as you might be, you can't change what happened. Just tell Yuugi about how you feel tomorrow, okay?"

Yami smirked. Part of it was genuine, but he was making a conscientious effort to go with the flow as well. "Look at you, Mister Advice. Alright, I'll fuck you already. I know what you're doing." He chuckled a little, to force himself to relax.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure our arrangement was the opposite. And yes, I'm trying to turn you on with my advice. Is it working?"

It was this, Mokuba being selfish and not treating him any differently because he was upset, that helped him gain his momentum in the conversation. The smirk stayed. "No," Yami said. But he was sure that Mokuba knew that he was lying.

Mokuba chuckled, and Yami nearly started when he felt teeth grazing his ear, nibbling roughly on the edges. The hand on his cock _squeezed_, and Yami found his next sigh wavering as he let it loose.

"You're such a bad liar," Mokuba purred, the pressure of his hand persisting as he continued to stroke. The nibbling on Yami's ear turned quickly to biting, and Yami couldn't help but arch into his touch. The sting of pain was always arousing, and just the bruising on his ear alone strengthened his erection. The next few minutes were silent, save rustling or the occasional moan, and Mokuba moved down to bite across Yami's chest, carefully avoiding some of the newer scratches and scars.

"Mokuba, I..." but he trailed off as Mokuba slid underneath the covers, his hand picking up its pace. A tongue ran down his side, and Yami shivered; it worked every time.

Then he felt teeth grazing his hips.

_...This is new._

A soft groan from Mokuba caught his ear, and Yami felt Mokuba's thumb pressing hard on the head of his cock, still stroking. "...fuck, Mokuba," he whined.

"_MmHmm_," Mokuba hummed contentedly into his skin, fingers letting go of Yami's erection to poke and prod at him. Yami felt teeth biting into his thigh, Mokuba sliding his body in between Yami's legs, his bites moving inward until his teeth were grazing right at the base...

Yami's eyes were still shut, his hips bucking before he swore at Mokuba. "_Come on_. Mokuba, hurry up...!"

Mokuba reached above him with his free hand, pulling the covers back and over his head. The resulting breeze wafted over Yami's body, and he shivered again. Mokuba smirked, pulling himself back up to the head of the bed, poised over Yami's. "You're such a bitch," Mokuba whispered into his ear, nipping the lobe as he pulled away.

"That's funny, coming from you," Yami retorted, panting.

Then Mokuba's lips were covering his, hips were straddling his and Yami knew he would be well distracted - at least for the evening.

* * *

This is prompt #39.

I rather liked writing this scene, but I'm being a bit scrutinizing about it now that I'm looking a second time. :(


	40. Heated

The first thing Yuugi did was sigh.

"Yami, I'm not sure what to say."

He had gotten up first thing in the morning to make sure that he was back at the store. He needed to be there in time enough to catch Yuugi before class and before he had to open the shop. They needed to talk about this as soon as possible. Unfortunately for the two of them, the afternoon was full of work for Yami and school for Yuugi. Yami was determined to have this conversation and wasn't willing to put it off any further. As sleepy as they both might have been, he felt it may have been an asset; being sleepy would help keep their emotions as bay.

_You better say something_, Yami thought after the silence has stretched for almost three minutes, _before I reach over this counter and choke you_. But he held himself, concentrating on the patterned surface of the kitchen counter while he waited.

Finally, Yuugi sighed again. "It's hard to describe how I feel." He waited a few seconds before continuing. "It's...a lot of things. I thought that we were okay. I had forgiven you. I wanted to understand how you felt."

Yami shook his head. Yuugi was still being vague. "Forgive me for what?" He was sure that Yuugi had a number of instances that would have required his forgiveness.

Yuugi's eyebrows knitted, and he looked away. "For breaking up with me."

Yami looked away, too.

Their break up wasn't something that he was proud of, but it had been a decison that had benefitted them both.

After another pause, Yuugi continued. "I love you, Yami. That's not going to change. But it's difficult, watching you do stupid things when I know I could make you happy."

Yami opened his mouth to speak, but Yuugi cut him off as he kept going. "But that was your decision and I wanted what you wanted. You don't understand what watching you is like. You went into that..." Yuugi made a face, "that _whore_ phase when you were just sleeping with everything that breathed. You could have gotten a disease, you could have gotten into some sort of trouble running with that weird club crowd, or god knows what else."

Yami closed his eyes. That wasn't one of the best chapters of his life, and he felt it important for Yuugi to know that he agreed. "That was a difficult time for me, Yuugi. I'm not proud of it - "

"You better not be. But you don't know what it's like, waiting at four in the morning to see if you'll come home? No, you don't." Yuugi took a deep breath, eyes meeting Yami's expectantly.

"I want to hear the rest," Yami told him.

There was so much, he realized, that Yuugi hadn't told him. He'd carried this stuff with him for years. While Yami was upset that Yuugi hadn't bothered to bring any of it up since then, he was more interested in actually understanding what was going through Yuugi's head. As though to confirm that there was something to be found by listening, the connection between them pulsed with emotion. Yami tried to keep himself alert, to be prepared to try to defend himself against Yuugi's feeling bleeding over if need be.

Yuugi sniffed, which was not a good sign. "How was I supposed to talk to you about that? There's no way to do it. You wouldn't have listened to me."

Yami nodded. He probably wouldn't have. He had been trying, at that time, to distance himself from Yuugi as much as possible, to give Yuugi a chance to live his life. And he hadn't gone about doing it the right way. It had been a difficult time for him, too.

"And then there was Marik." Yuugi was looking away again, clenching fists. "He just came along and 'fixed' _everything_. What did he have that I didn't? But I knew what it was. You weren't his spirit. You didn't feel like it was forced. It gave me closure the first few times we talked about it-since we were talking again. I listened to you and gave you advice when you asked for it. I was getting over you. You were happy, and with someone that you felt couldn't possibly be pretending to love you. I got it. So I supported you. I was happy for you, and we were getting close again. You'd let me touch you. You talked to me more.

"But then you left him too. I didn't understand, until recently. I still think don't completely understand. I don't know what you want, or who you want. Marik had everything that I didn't. But no, you wanted someone completely unassociated with the biggest part of your life. It doesn't make sense to me. But you don't talk to me about _that _- so I don't know what to think anymore. And now Mokuba. Did you ever care about me? Were _you_ the one that felt forced? I really wonder that sometimes - even though I know that you were honest with me when we talked."

Yami was left scrambling for a response. There was too much to think about all at once. At least Yuugi had put it out there, had _finally _told him. Some of it Yami had already put together on his own. There were certainly things that he wished he could take back, or do over. And they had talked about some of these things, but only on the surface - Yami had guessed at things being hidden underneath, but he had also figured that Yuugi had wanted to deal with it on his own.

Silence settled between them again.

He had to say something. Yuugi's declaration couldn't just hang in the air like that, without a response or an apology or anything. He still had issues to address, but this was much more complicated than he'd thought at first. Frowning, he said, "Marik wasn't better than you. That wasn't it. I thought you should know that." It seemed like a good place to start. Positive, encouraging, perhaps adding a bit of closure.

Yuugi nodded, but said nothing in response, hugging himself.

"I'm sorry that it's to late for account for your feelings," he lamented. "It wasn't right for me to treat you the way that I did after I broke things off. I was hurt, too. I didn't want to leave you, but I thought that was part of the problem, and everything I did afterward was pretty reckless. I can't lie about that."

"Yup," Yuugi said despondently.

Yami took another minute to try to compose himself, to organize his thoughts. Yuugi would never agree with his opinion that the two of them were forced together, so he didn't really want to touch that at all. They'd just end up having the same fight that they'd been having off and on since they'd broken up.

Suddenly, Yuugi stepped down from his chair and began to head in the direction of his room.

Yami shook his head-he wasn't through yet! "Wait, Yuugi," he said, perhaps a bit loudly than he'd intended. "I... I'm sorry that I hurt you. I was just trying to to take your feelings into consideration. I didn't want you to feel like..." He cut himself off. There was no way to explain how he felt without breaching into that territory.

Unfortunately, Yuugi had already been able to tell where he had been about to go. "I wasn't obligated to love you," Yuugi spat, "but I did. And I can't make you believe that, so why bother trying? I've tried for the last four or five years; it hasn't gotten me anywhere."

When he turned to face Yami again, his eyes were watering. And Yami was sure that they could both feel their emotions swelling.

"Yuugi," Yami said, trying to keep cool, to keep his emotions in check, "do you think you would have fallen for me had the puzzle been given to someone else? If we had even met?" That was the simplest way to put it. It was a yes or no question. And they both already knew the answer.

Yuugi threw his hands into the air. "You just don't get it. That's not important!" Yami nearly flinched at Yuugi's ferocity. "It's a stupid question! That's like asking if Marik would have been attracted to you if he wasn't Egyptian, or if I would have gone to college if I went to a different high school and hadn't met Jou or Anzu - none of that is the point! It doesn't make any fucking difference, Yami!" He sniffed again. "Those things don't mean anything, because things happened the way they did and they are the way they _fucking_ are and - "

"Yuugi!" The two of them heard a shout from the back hall. Their grandfather, no doubt. "It's too early in the morning for all that shouting!"

Yuugi cringed, wiping his eyes. "Things happened this way," he hissed, "because they _did_. I don't understand how that could mean absolutely nothing to you - how you could just say I'm_ conditional_, or that I don't mean what I say."

"It's not that it doesn't mean anything," Yami attempted to explain. Was Yuugi right? Was he focusing on the wrong thing?

He slid off of his chair as well, the connection between them still pulsing. His eyes were watering, just like the day before, and he wiped them dry as he moved to block Yuugi from leaving.

"I haven't abandoned you. I know that you mean what you're saying to me."

"Do you really? Because if I only love you because the Items made it this way, doesn't that mean my feelings aren't real?" Yuugi was outright crying now, sniffing in between, and Yami's eyes followed the tears as they dripped down his cheeks. "You've gotten everything you want when you wanted it. Everything. And you took the one thing away from me that I needed from you. Then I try to be happy with someone else and you get upset because I'm guarding my feelings?"

"No, no, that's not it..."

Yami could feel the rush of emotion - he was trying to ease it, this time, instead of being overwhelmed by it. His arms were still around Yuugi before he had to chance to think about it if was the right thing to do. It _had_ to have been. He couldn't just let Yuugi stand there, crying, and not do anything about it. This was his fault.

"_Don't touch me_," but Yuugi didn't fight or struggle.

He just cried.

"No."

Yuugi's arms reached almost as though to wrap around Yami, but they stopped short and gripped his shirt instead. He didn't pull Yami close or push him away. He just clutched Yami's shirt and sobbed.

Yami himself managed to keep himself from being too moved; his own tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

He hated having to deal with their issues only when they boiled over the top. It was impossible to handle any emotional hardship by himself. He felt trapped, constantly ensnared by his feelings. Loving Yuugi wasn't something that he could just stop doing. Although he would never wish to turn their connection off, he did wish that he could reduce its intensity. Yami could already feel it, that soothing warmth between them.

It would have been nothing for Yami to lean forward and kiss him; it would have been like breathing. It was a part of his natural state of being.

He resisted.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Yuugi's ear. Hearing himself speak helped him keep his grip on reality. And he was genuinely sorry, not just for their misunderstanding but everything leading up to it.

Yuugi nodded, and Yami held him tightly until those tears were sniffles again.

"I'm gonna be late for class," Yuugi whimpered, but he still waited a few more seconds to move.

Yami could feel the strain on his body as he untangled himself from Yuugi. He grimaced as he forced his arms to hang at his sides. They were tightened coils, ready to spring toward Yuugi again at a moment's notice. He hated it; it shouldn't have been that hard to simply let go of another person.

Yuugi took a tentative step backward, wiping his eyes again. He said, "Thanks...for listening and everything."

It was Yami's turn to nod, because he didn't know how to appropriately respond. There were so many thoughts swirling inside of him, and he didn't feel that it was the appropriate time to bring them up. How would Yuugi react to him if Yami was to tell him that, at that very moment, he would have very gladly done much more damage than a simple kiss?

"Yami, I..." Yuugi reached for his hand, but seemed to think better of it and pulled it back. "I don't think I'll ever stop caring about you. I just wanted you to understand how hard it is to be 'normal' with you."

Yami frowned. "Understanding isn't the hard part, Yuugi. You aren't the only one suffering. The feelings I have for you - they didn't go anywhere. They didn't disappear." He ran both hands through his hair to keep them occupied. "They're still here. I'm still attracted to you. I still miss you from time to time. Did you even bother to wonder why that kiss happened in the first place? It's hard being connected to you _and_ having feelings for you all at the same time. I wasn't using you, Yuugi. I just lost control. It was a mistake. A really big one, and it made things much worse."

Yuugi didn't seem to have a reply for him. A few minutes of silence passed between them, and they just stared at each other. Yami wondered if Yuugi could feel the jumble of emotions inside of him, or the desire hidden underneath. He was relieved when Yuugi turned silently, retreating to his room. He waited until Yuugi was out of earshot before sighing.

With Yuugi in his room, getting ready for class, Yami was left to stand by himself in the kitchen. It felt awkward to move anywhere else, too much like he was dismissing the heavy conversation they had just had. There still hadn't been a resolution, in all honesty, and Yami supposed that the two of them would just have to disagree and learn to deal with it.

No matter how Yami looked at it, he was still pretty screwed. There were clearly powerful emotions tied between them. He knew that he couldn't have been the only one who felt trapped by the bond the Puzzle had forged between them. The aching, the urge to hold on and not let go... the kiss that had almost happened, and the one that did.

Yuugi had to have felt it as well. It was the problem, the elephant in the room, and Yami didn't envy the moment that he knew would come: when they would have no choice but to address it directly.

* * *

This is prompt #50.


	41. Bad

Yami shuddered as he climaxed, the towel in his free hand ready to catch his load.

A sigh echoed through the room as he muscles relaxed. He decided to wait a few moments before moving, try his best to revel in his momentary pleasure.

In a few heartbeats he rolled off of the bed to dispose of the towel. The only light in the room came in the form of bright, glowing red numbers on the bedside alarm clock. Yami decided not to check the time until he returned from the bathroom. Yami sensed that he would be disappointed.

Sure enough, when he got back into bed, it was with a heavy sigh.

**4:26 AM**

Mokuba wouldn't be back until the afternoon.

Fucking Kaibas. Yami was sure that he was overreacting, but he had barely seen Mokuba - or fucked him - in the last two weeks. _Conveniently_, Seto had decided to launch some sort of atrraction or other and it required a lot of time and work. Mokuba had explained it to him a few days ago, but Yami had been so focused on the fact that Mokuba's presence would be scarce that he didn't retain it.

Tossing in the sheets, Yami growled to himself. He didn't understand why he was doing this to himself. He didn't have to sleep in Mokuba's apartment. After all, the small chance that Mokuba would be home was by no means a guarantee. Yami sighed again; he was becoming attached.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

* * *

This is prompt #65.


	42. Roleplay

Yami's eyes were shut tight. He hated the idea of admitting that he was whipped, but to be honest, he rather was. He liked sex, and he liked physicality. It wasn't so much that he couldn't stand not having it-he had been in the middle of a dry period when he'd found Mokuba in the first place. But what he _did_ have an issue with was being given sex on a very regular basis and then having it taken away.

Mokuba had decided to take that promotion, and he had been busy almost from that moment forward. He only worked officially "three hours a day", and the rest was considered overtime.

...There was a lot of overtime. After a week where Mokuba was doing training and introductions, Mokuba had slipped fully into the job. He was almost never home. Three times he'd been late planning with Kaiba, and simply spent the night in the Mansion. The other days Mokuba came home too tired to say anything other than "hello" and "goodnight". Yami felt like he would be a dick to ask for a quickie.

It was quite a conundrum.

He almost welcomed the knock on his door. "Come in."

Yuugi was an entirely different scenario. There was an awkward easiness between them, one that spoke of the potential for things to either improve or become monumentally worse. They still disagreed passionately about the fate of their relationship, but they were where they were, and they were dealing with it.

The lack of attention from Mokuba was becoming a problem, though, and it was bleeding into other things. His bones cried out for a physical embrace of some kind, and Yuugi was a temptation for him.

When Yuugi stepped into the room, he was grinning from ear to ear. "Do you have plans for today?"

Yami wished he could have said yes. "No."

"Alright. Guess what happened to me today?"

"You won the lottery?"

"Yami..." Yuugi tutted. "No, I saw a friend. Guess who?"

"Jou or Honda?"

"Nope."

"Anzu?"

"...um, nope!"

"Well, Yuugi, it's not like we hang out with a gaggle of people. Who?"

"I knew you wouldn't guess."

"_Who_?"

"Bakura!" Ameythyst eyes shone with exaggerated excitement.

Yami tried his best to keep his jaw from dropping. "...Bakura? Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!"

After the Ceremonial Duel, when Yami had gotten his body, Ryou had been left in an inconvenient position. The damage that the _spirit of the Ring_ had wrought in Ryou's life had been tremendous. Much of it could not be changed. Ryou himself could not undo the changes he had gone through. And while Yami, trying to cope with the fact that his soul had once again been denied eternal rest, had attempted to reach out to Ryou.

Yami shook his head. He couldn't believe it. "Bakura?"

"Bakura," Yuugi confirmed. "He was at the grocery store downtown."

Yami blinked, and tried to ignore the scene playing through his head. He'd met Mokuba (or his ass, really) while shopping for Gramps. But he tried to stay with the subject on hand. "Wow. How's he doing?"

The boy had decided that he needed a change of pace. One of the last conversations they'd had concerned the idea of Ryou going off to travel with his father. He had no family in Domino, and his father was almost constantly abroad. He didn't want to simply sit there, in the city, and obsess over his troubles. Yami had done the opposite, and had decided to stay and work while ignoring those problems instead.

In the end he went through with it and decided to leave, to take time out to focus on his life and find out what he was meant to do. Yuugi and the others had split up the postcards he'd sent them. Over the years, though, the postcards became fewer and fewer until they stopped altogether.

Regardless, it was nice knowing that he was alright. Yami felt that Ryou had deserved better than he had received, and hopefully, the Gods would see fit to give those rewards to him.

"Yeah, I think he's doing okay. I only spoke to him for a moment or two. But he seemed well. I guess he's staying in Domino now. We were invited over tonight. That's why I asked."

Yami thought about it for just a moment. As much as he wanted to believe that Mokuba would get back home at a decent hour and not tired as all hell, it wasn't very likely. At the same time, he didn't want _this_ evening to be the fluke. Yami would be furious if he got a text any earlier than midnight while he was out.

"Did you have a date with Mokuba?" Yuugi asked.

"No, I didn't," Yami said, quickly dismissing the notion. "It's fine. I'll go." The hesitancy was still there, tying knots in his stomach. Unfortunately, the likelihood of Mokuba actually getting home at a decent hour was slim to none. Yami wasn't going to waste his time pining for anyone's presence.

"...are you sure? I'm not trying to force you." There was that awkwardness again - Yuugi didn't have to go so far to ensure that things remained comfortable between them.

"Yeah. It's fine, Yuugi."

Yuugi had been sending concerned glances at Yami for the entire ride, but Yami didn't say a word. There wasn't really a wholesome way to tell Yuugi that he was just horny, especially considering where their relationship was at the moment.

Ryou lived on the other side of Domino, closer to the downtown area than to the Game Shop. If they were reading the address correctly, Ryou lived in a quaint, baby blue house. It looked awfully Western in design-there was a white fence around the yard, even.

They were greeted at the door by a woman with violet hair, pulled back into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder. "You must be friends of Ryou. Come on in. Welcome." She spoke in English, and both Yuugi and Yami hesitated for a moment. She hastily added a small bow, and they entered.

It was a really large house. The living room was even larger than Mokuba's, and it would probably swallow the kitchen, too. The walls were painted a lighter blue than the outside of the house, and the furniture was beige in color. A large rug adorned the carpeted floor, a darker blue decorated with golden tassels and accents.

Ryou was sitting on the floor in front of one of the couches. He scrambled to his feet, almost tripping on his way to greet Yuugi and Yami. His smile was bright, and wider than anything Yami remembered seeing before.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it!" he said, arms stretching to envelop the two of them together, tightly. "I was worried something would come up and you wouldn't be able to make it - I know this was quite last minute, but I wasn't expecting to run into Yuugi at all."

Ryou's cheery disposition took Yami off-guard; for the first time in a long time, he didn't have a single word to say. He was utterly surprised.

While Yami gaped at the man before him, Yuugi said sheepishly, "I'm glad we could make it, too."

Ryou's smile was unwavering, and it made Yami feel a bit unsettled. "I see you've met my wife. Alicia, this is Yuugi and Yami Mutou. Remember when I told you about them?"

Yami turned to face the woman who had been at the door previously, with the purple hair. He hoped that she would be distracting, at least enough for him to get his beraing. To his surprise, Alicia's face was quite a bright shade of red. In a small, peeking voice she asked, "...you two are the Kings of Games?"

"Oh, Ryou, you didn't..." Yuugi sighed. He shook his head. "We're just employees at the Kame Game Shop."

Yami nodded, because that was all he was capable of doing. The woman was still blushing, and without another word she set off, disappearing from sight.

"She plays Duel Monsters a little," Ryou admitted. "She was interested in learning how to play and we hit it off from there."

"You're married?" Yami repeated, awestruck.

"Yep," Ryou chuckled nervously.

It was like a blow to the face. The last time that they had seen each other, Ryou had seemed so...broken. Very much like Yami himself had been. Yami wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he had agreed to see Ryou, but what he was facing was just a little much. Ryou had made so much progress since the last time they had seen each other. and Yami...

"I have a few friends coming over," Ryou was saying to Yuugi. "I'm still waiting for them to get here, but they'd love to start a new campaign of D&D with you guys. I told them I might have guests."

"How long have you been back in Domino?" Yami asked. It was relevant, safe. Expected.

"What version do you all play?" Yuugi asked simultaneously, his excited tones easily overtaking Yami's voice.

Ryou glanced at him for a moment. "Mostly 3.5," he said, answering Yuugi's question.

Yami kept his mouth shut, though, and let them talk about the game. Yuugi had that shiny, glass look in his eye, the one that told him that there were other questions following behind that. Yami had done tabletops campaigns with Yuugi. He was familiar enough with them to make it through the evening. And, of course, he had a penchant for catching on to games quickly, even without the Puzzle.

Their voices droned on, and Yami tried to find something to distract himself from looking at Ryou's house; at all of the antique decorations, the bright colors, the flower motif on the wall in the kitchen, the polished bookshelves filled with Duel M-

A scream broke his thoughts, his focus. Yami was glad for it.

"Oh, Azura," Alicia cried from the doorway. He said the worry cross her face as she caught Ryou's eye. "She must be hungry, dear."

Ryou laughed. "Is it my turn?"

Yuugi's eyes were blinking, trying to figure out what was going on. Yami's fists clenched tightly, and he held them to his sides_. _Ryou had a kid?

_...I can't be here right now. _That was the limit.

But Yami was polite. Just after Ryou rushed by him, toward the stairs, Yami approached Alicia. She still looked mildly concerned. He put on his best smile, and asked her softly, "Would it be rude to ask to be let outside? I need a little fresh air."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, dear. Is it stuffy? I can turn on the air conditioner - "

Yami shook his head. "It's perfectly fine, thank you. I hope I'm not being too rude a guest." He could feel Yuugi's eyes on his back.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Ah, this way..." her Japanese was heavily accented, but she was being as polite as possible. Yami appreciated it.

When Yami glanced back, Yuugi's eyes told him all he needed to know. He tried his best to flash Yami a smile as well, but considering their current situation with each other he found it difficult to even try to fake his feelings.

They'd both hidden too much already.

* * *

This is prompt #52.

I'm very interested in what people think of where I've placed Ryou. I knew that I was going to have him off overseas for a while, but I wasn't quite sure how to introduce him, whether or not he was going to come back to Domino, or what he would be doing once he returned. I think I nestled him in quite nicely, but I am open to opinions about it.


	43. Champagne

Mokuba raised his glass, and took a sip along with the others at the table. He smiled brightly at those around him, celebrating as best he could. Nevermind that he wished he were as far from those people as possible.

The past few weeks had been hectic to say the least. The man whose position he was taking, Eri-san, was still sticking around. Mokuba would only be there for a few months anyway, and he needed someone to "show him the ropes". There were too many of them, to be honest. Seto was a paranoid man. Almost the entire PR department was run by a single man.

And soon enough that man would be Mokuba.

Seto was smart, Eri had told him. There was too much pressure in leaking information when one person was doing most of the work. Very few other sources of information. Mokuba still wasn't inclined to call it genius. Social dynamics were not his brother's strong suit, and therefore it made a lot of sense for him to so tightly manage any processes involving it. The margin for error was much larger.

It was much too much for a single person, but just short of cruel and unusual punishment. Mokuba would be the contact person for Seto's public appearances, paperwork bearing the Kaiba name and KaibaCorp Logos, numerous reporters and anyone wishing to associate publicly with Seto Kaiba. He was also responsible for over viewing Kaiba's own personal releases concerning his life, which more people than necessary were interested in. He was the go-to person for performance rights and the like as well. He was required to oversee the Marketing department for three hours each day, and on-call for the rest. He had to approve speeches and statements and anything else that Seto even though to say to another person.

Terrible thing was, the job was even more work than it sounded like in the description. On the other hand, Eri-san had told him in private it had been worse at times. Duel Monsters had plateaued in popularity, but wasn't decreasing, which made things a lot easier. It was a good thing, he insisted. Less work.

Unfortunately for Mokuba, the week that he had begun his training had been just near the completion of KaibaLand's relaunch. Although he had discussed it with his team in Marketing, and they'd had a hand with some of the advertisements, he hadn't paid much attention to it until...well, until he'd had to. The amusement park had been refitted with some new rides based on upgraded KaibaCorp technology, new prizes and other things. In short, Mokuba had been thrown into a foray of contracts and jobs. He must have met near forty people as the Press Release conference for the opening had approached. Mokuba couldn't remember all of the names. He had feared he wouldn't be able to keep up the charms through the long work weeks.

He had barely gone home over the two and a half weeks he'd been in training. He missed being at home. He missed his bed, his down time, sex with Yami. It had been difficult enough to manage being at home at the same time as Yam in the first place. There was no other reason for the ex-Pharaoh to hang around and visit his home nearly every day. Yami had other shit to do, and he had a very avid appetite. It wasn't difficult to tell what he wanted. But not once had Yami complained.

Mokuba sighed, reclining back into his seat. He should be getting a break after this. He wanted to go home.

A hand gripped his shoulder, and he looked to his right to see Seto frowning at him. The rest of the table, filled with other upper KaibaCorp staff, were all relaxing after their hard work. Quite a few of them were throwing drinks back really hard.

"Is something wrong, Mokuba?" For the first time in a long time, Seto looked...content. Not quite happy, but close enough.

But Mokuba didn't have any personality left, nothing to buffer his attitude or his response. "Yeah. I don't feel very well."

"Had too much to drink already? You're not going to get sick, are you?" Seto inquired. "Please don't get sick. I need you tomorrow."

That much was true. The speech had been approved and everything was set in place, but there were plenty of things that could have gone wrong, and Seto was going to introduce him as the new PR manager tomorrow.

"I'll be fine. I just want to go home and rest."

Seto smiled, a real smile that latched onto minutes wrinkles near his eyes. "You can stay at the Manor tonight. I know you've been doing a lot of commuting." It wasn't that far, really.

"I can't. I'm sorry." He took a sip of wine. "There are some things I need to take care of at home."

Seto's face reset itself, and he nodded. "Well, the invitation's always open."

But Mokuba had already refused, and they both knew that he wasn't going to take Seto up on his offer. "I'll keep that in mind."

The only thing on his mind was Yami.

* * *

This is prompt #32.


	44. Self Love

The lips pressed against his tasted unbearably sweet.

Yami's eyes fluttered closed, his arms wrapping themselves around the body above him as his mouth was assaulted. Goosebumps prickled along his skin. He was already panting for breath.

"Take off your clothes," he was told.

The voice was sharp, and Yami obeyed the command without a word to the contrary. Trousers went first. Yami hastily tugged them down to his knees and kicked them off; everything under them too.

"Mm. I missed you, Yami." Hands trailed down to his thighs as Yami struggled to remove his shirt, fingers pinching skin on his inner thigh. "Hurry up." The voice was a hiss, impatient.

The shirt was tossed aside mere seconds later. "There," Yami breathed.

"You were much too slow."

A gasp echoed between them as hands roughly handled Yami's cock. Constricting fingers wound tightly around it, suffocating it; there was no hesitation in their movements. His body throbbed against the painful pressure, and he whimpered as each sharp shot of pain coursed through him. Everything had happened too quickly; there had been no time to brace himself.

"Ah... aah..." his breaths were caught between loose cries.

"You're sick, Yami, enjoying being treated like this..."

The pressure lifted and Yami tried to settle his breathing. He said nothing in response.

"I'll just have to find a way to punish you, you. Or maybe... you'd just like more?" The pause afterward was teasing, not long enough to allow an answer. "If you're a good little bitch I might just be nice to you. Tell me you want it."

Another command. Yami couldn't remember Mokuba ever being so pushy. His body tingled in anticipation for what could follow. Even so he hesitated, not because he didn't want more - he _always_ wanted more. Some force within, coiling around his throat, rendered him mute and pushed him to test the limits of his captor.

He wished a pair of hands were closed around it instead.

"Tell me."

The defiance persisted.

Weight pressed itself down on Yami's body almost immediately. "What did I just say?" The anger held within the voice made Yami shiver. It wasn't angry enough, though, so he remained quiet.

The slap that followed his protest caused his ears to ring. "I said,_ tell me._"

The sting of his cheek loosened his tongue. "I want it," he whined after a sharp intake of breath. Afterward, he would vehemently deny such soft words.

It was the only way he would receive the abuse he deserved. There had only been one person willing to oblige him, to punish him for all of his wrongdoings - to give him the ecstasy he craved. The memory of those hands tearing skin, of rope biting into him, they aroused him further. It was the only time he had been completely sated. He couldn't have been happier.

The person who had given him that feeling - now he was...

"Yuugi..." he sighed. The name had rolled off of his tongue.

Though nearly a whisper, the sound had been so intense that Yami surprised even himself. The word was said at a nearly vaporous volume, uttered in a tone of ecstasy that he had never heard from himself before. He had never put so much passion into a moan, never made a noise like that-the thought of having said the wrong name barely crossed his mind.

There was suddenly a needy, _solid _press between his legs.

"Aah..." His pants were lusty and low, hips itching forward to tease the cock pushing between them. He wanted it - oh, he couldn't wait. "Haa... haa..."

He wouldn't have to. Hands gripped Yami's hips tightly, pulling him forward. The first thrust was hard, dry, and another followed without warning. The friction between them burned and Yami rolled his head back, shutting his eyes in pain. He felt as though he was being ripped open; there was no reprieve, muscles struggling to adjust to the mass that was violating him. Instinctively, his hips jutted back and away, but those hands held him firmly in place. It was excruciating. Was this the punishment for the mistake he'd made? He had earned it.

"Take it." The hiss was _feral_, through gritted teeth.

Yami's body stole another intake of breath. His legs and thighs moved up, up, resting on small shoulders. Eyes screwed shut on his face, hips rolled hard to meet the new angle. Each stroke was deeper than the last as the hard cock pushed its way further inside, and the pain was euphoric. Yami couldn't stop his legs from trembling. At this rate, he was going to come soon.

There was an aggressive snarl above him, and then a haughty chuckle. The thrusts didn't stop. "You're pathetic. Say it."

His body was adjusting to the mass inside it much more quickly than he wanted. Each stroke became less painful and more slick, the friction melting away. The cock was almost there, though, almost pressing to the back wall and when he reached it, Yami wouldn't be able to hold back at all.

The erection was pulled out of him unceremoniously, and Yami moaned at its absence. "Please..." he begged.

"Say it."

There was no reprimand for his disobedience, however, and without motivation to go on Yami would try his best to last a bit longer.

"I will stand here," he was told. "I don't _have _to fuck you at all. I'll fucking blow all over your face and you'll get nothing. You're not going to push me around."

Nails dug into his thighs, dragging the skin underneath and Yami took a deep breath to try to hold himself under control. The nails weren't pressing deep enough, weren't drawing blood and Yami was sure that he could resist the alluring sting. He could hold out for something more.

The hands trailed below, cupping around his buttocks, pulling him forward and lifting his hips higher.

"N-no," Yami whimpered weakly in protest, knowing that he wouldn't survive _that_. It would be too deep.

Without warning, rough hands squeezed Yami's balls and tugged downward. He hissed loudly as he tried to disguise his reaction, and cried out when the wave of agony proved too much for him. His own erection shuddered, and tears bundled at the corners of his eyes as he realized he was so hard he was beginning to hurt. It was torture.

But he still wanted more, _wanted_ to be in tears, wanted nails to cut and teeth to bite through skin. Yami wanted to burn; it had been a lifetime since he'd felt hot wax searing his flesh. He wanted to see his own blood. Just the thought of it made him moan again, cock twitching more violently. His eyes screwed shut. He was going to -

One of the hands moved swiftly to the base of his shaft, squeezing even tighter than before. "You're not coming before me, you piece of shit."

Yami's hips were heaving - he could feel the orgasm traveling from the tips of his toes towards his torso. He knew how much it would hurt when it reached his loins, when the spasms were supposed to release but wouldn't; he writhed on the sheets, suffering alone in a dry orgasm. In desperate throes, Yami rasped, "P-pathe...tic! I'm..." between ragged breaths. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

The hand removed itself when Yami's body finished seizing.

A small breeze wafted over his face, and small puffs of breath brushed his right ear where a mouth was leaning close. "You're filthy. Did you know that? Filthy. Are you ready to come properly? You've been so good for me. Been a while since I've had you like this. I miss it."

Each breath on Yami's lobe made his entire body convulse.

"Hm? Are you ready?" The voice was suddenly playful, as though they were having fun.

Yami nodded, eyes still shut. He felt something hard press against his entrance and couldn't help arching his back.

"Beg for it." Hands that weren't his wiped away his tears in gentle motions. The touch was merciful, soft. Persuasive. "Go on."

Yami's erection was swollen from abuse - there was nothing more he wanted than release. His balls and the sheets beneath him were drenched in precum and colorless ejaculate. If he went any longer without it he would pass out. He would come as soon as he was entered, he knew.

"_Master_..." He couldn't help sobbing. "I... I need - "

"I know what you need. Why should I care?" But the member pressing against him continued anyway, tip forcing past the tight ring of muscles. Yami's knees were pressed back against his torso and he held his breath as though that would somehow make him stronger.

He wasn't going to make it.

"I ca-can't," he whined, trying to convey his thoughts, but he sounded too pitiful. He wouldn't have listened to himself. "I'm going to..."

Lips covered his own in a soft kiss. Yami's eyes were still closed, but he responded to kiss weakly. His breaths were too quickly paced to sustain any embrace for a long time; the pain of his hard-on was constant, and it wouldn't wane until he came again - _really_ came. Enfolding his body against his lover he tried to hold himself back, to wait until the Master gave his permission. He would try as hard as he could.

Those skilled hands trailed up his chest, fingertips brushing the sides of Yami's neck, and it made him shiver. Every second was a battle against sensations that threatened to conquer him. Palms rested against the hot skin of his throat, fingers spreading out to the sides, curling to cradle his chin.

"...oh..." Yami gasped as the pressure increased. "...no..." He realized what was happening, and his body did, too.

"Oh, _yes_," the voice said above him.

Yami opened his eyes just in time to see a sinister smile. Fingers tightened around his throat, nails piercing downward into his skin.

His cock throbbed before it erupted, heart pounding -

...

Red eyes snapped open as his body shuddered.

"Oh, shit." Yami didn't need to check underneath the sheets to know what was there. "_Shit_." He paused. "Fuck."

First instinct was to flee the bed and check for damage. Goddamn it, he hadn't been expecting to wash sheets today. When he tried to move, however, his body protested vehemently. He'd just come, but he was still hard.

"Fuck!" He didn't particularly care of he was being loud. He glanced around, mind reeling at the miniscule chance that perhaps Mokuba had come home really late from work, but he knew it would have been too good to be true:

The bed was empty.

Imprinted in his mind were the details of the wet dream, but they were slipping away quickly, as dreams were wont to do. It was a particularly good one, too, and Yami took a few moments to relive it before it was gone. He was going to have to wash the sheets anyway, it seemed. He'd blown a particularly heavy load; it was dripping down past his balls and he knew the sheets would be stained, too.

"Fuck," he said again, resigned to the situation.

He frowned. Mokuba was nearly never home, so the clean-up would be easy. Yami knew where everything was in the flat - he might be late for work at the shop, but if he called ahead Gramps wouldn't get too angry.

Yami felt disgusted with himself. He hadn't had a dream like that for a while, near a year at least. It wasn't a good sign. Running fingers over his face to make sure there weren't any tear streaks, he sighed deeply. He wasn't quite sure what to do, but crying certainly wasn't an option.

"I'm pathetic," he whispered, but he really meant it.

That dream hadn't been about Mokuba.

* * *

This is prompt #54.

I'm not sure what else to say about this other than - "Yep, this is what Yami really wants." I had a difficult time getting through this, honestly. I lost this post the first time I had conjured it up, and it took a long time to get over my devastation to add more to it again. I only have a few more prompts left now, so I'm hoping that I'll be able to finish this table up soon. It's been over a year since I've started, and I have to admit that doing more than two-thirds of a prompt table is still formidable - but I want to finish it.

I'm also going to start tagging these soon, I suppose.

Not sure how many people actually read my journal or these when I post them, but if anyone around here catches this I wanted to pose a question: Should I put this up on AFF (adultfanfiction)? I've been thinking about it. I guess I should, because Be Cool if up there, but there are a lot of plot chapters and most of them aren't necessarily porn (unlike this one).

Anyway, I do hope that you enjoyed it. See you around!


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